


Burning The Edges

by Shire55



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Gay Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 197,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shire55/pseuds/Shire55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A psychotic gay crewmember has her sights set on Beverly Crusher. Only Picard stands between the dangerous woman and her fantasy of having Crusher to herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Burning The Edges, Pt 1

Burning The Edges.

 

Their lovemaking had been intense, although only one of them felt that way. To the other, it was just sex, unremarkable and cheerless, but necessary to maintain a semblance of normality and useful for relieving stress.  
Meredith Bower had never quite fitted in. For most of her twenty nine years she had sensed what went on around her, that considered normal, everyday life, was somehow disconnected from her. It was if she stood apart, a minor player in the scheme of things, watching as everything went on around her but never touching her.   
She was seven when she realised her true sexual identity and eleven when she felt the first stirrings of desire. Over time she’d had many lovers; she had a high libido and used women as a commodity, quickly becoming bored and moving on. The one thing she seemed incapable of was love. Not even her parents or her siblings elicited anything more than dutiful affection.  
Her partner in the riotously disordered bed wanted to cuddle. Meredith closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. It was always like this and she detested it. The urge to leave the bed and shower before ushering her partner from her quarters was almost overwhelming, but, for appearances, which were vitally important to her, Meredith swallowed her irritation and allowed herself to be embraced. It was an effort to disguise her true feelings-to force her body to relax-but it wasn’t as if this was the first time she’d ever had to do it.  
Careful to avoid getting a reputation as a shallow, cavalier user, Meredith always made sure her lovers were well satisfied, certainly no one could accuse her of sexual selfishness, but as diligent as she was it was inevitable that word would get around. It was unavoidable on a Starship. People gossiped; it was simply the way things were. However something had changed, something Meredith found amazing and new and astonishing and somehow absurd.  
Meredith was in love. It had taken several weeks for her to finally discover what these new and disturbing feelings were all about. At first she didn’t recognise what was happening. The object of her fascination seemed to occupy her thoughts constantly although that in itself wasn’t so unusual. In her pursuit of women she often obsessed over them until they submitted but this was something entirely different and, when she eventually came to the obvious conclusion she was stunned. The more she thought about it, the more she was reminded of the only time she’d felt anything for a partner. That the woman had remained Meredith’s companion as long as she had was testament to just how much Meredith cared for her. At the time, Meredith had thought herself in love, but she had been proved wrong. Her partner cheated on her, making Meredith believe she couldn’t have been in love as she would’ve chosen someone far more faithful to care about. It wasn’t possible that she had misplaced her feelings. No, it was a failing in her partner. It was the most humiliating, painful experience of her life and she’d vowed never to allow anyone to get that close to her again. It didn’t completely shield her from hurt, but she didn’t think about that. Anything that suggested vulnerability was buried, but deep inside, Meredith harboured the hope that one day she would find the one woman with whom she could be her true self. Someone she could trust. And she had found that someone.  
As if knowing what was going on in her mind, her partner, lazily kissing Meredith’s neck, must have subliminally picked up a hint. She ceased her kisses and sighed impatiently. What she said infuriated Meredith, though she didn’t show it.  
“I don’t know why you bother.”  
Meredith said nothing, merely lying quietly, outwardly calm, but listening intently. Her partner huffed.  
“It’s not as if she’ll ever even notice you!” she said imperiously. “From what I hear, she’s got a thing going with the Captain.”  
Meredith seethed. How could this creature know about her feelings? She had to find out.  
“Who says I have the hots for her anyway?” She said with more vexation than she intended to show.  
Exalted at having ruffled Meredith’s practised, legendary icy exterior, the woman smiled with sly glee. Her fingers idly wandered over Meredith’s breasts.  
“Aw, honey, you needn’t worry. I haven’t told anybody, your little secret’s safe with me. I’m sure we can work something out.”  
Her sickly-sweet tone and the implication of blackmail, coupled with her knowledge of Meredith’s deeply held secret sealed the woman’s fate. Meredith smiled, but if the woman had looked carefully, what she would’ve seen in Meredith’s eyes would have frozen her blood.

 

Beverly Crusher emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a peach satin night gown and matching robe, towelling her damp hair. Having just indulged in a hot water shower she padded bare foot across the carpet to the replicator and retrieved a hot lemon tea. Thus armed she went to the sofa and lowered herself with a sigh of pleasure. Sitting back, she placed her feet on the coffee table and crossed her ankles. Then, balancing the mug on her chest she let her head fall back to the backrest. Totally relaxed she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift.  
“Oh, lovely. What a day.” She sighed tiredly.  
The sound of the doors opening, then closing, didn’t disturb her in fact it caused a welcome trickle of anticipation. Sure enough his scent reached before he did. A mixture of understated aftershave and that which was uniquely his, a subtle, somehow arousing blend of dry earth and musk. She kept her eyes closed as he placed a gentle kiss on her brow. Listening, she heard him cross the room to the drinks cabinet and the sound of glass meeting glass as he poured what she knew would be a single malt scotch. Then she heard him move to the replicator and rumble quietly as he ordered ice. There a musical tinkling as the ice moved in the tumbler as he made his way to his chair. She knew with absolute certainty he would be carrying the tumbler in his right hand. Still with her eyes closed, she listened as he sat and took a long sip. His voice was soft and very deep and she had always found it compelling. Now was no different as he asked gently,  
“Long day?”  
Finally she opened her eyes. Jean-Luc Picard was seated exactly as she knew he would be. Relaxed, elegant, one leg crossed over the other, the tumbler in his right hand.  
“Hmm.” She replied. “Too long.”  
“Tell me.”  
It was yet another aspect she appreciated about their new arrangement. The opportunity to talk to someone about her day. For so many long years she had returned to her quarters after every shift, alone by choice to go through the well-established ritual of a shower, a meal, perhaps to read for a while, then retire to a lonely bed to find sleep. It had been the same for both of them. Solitary by nature and intensely private, they had both come to the conclusion they were destined for loneliness and had become accustomed to it.  
The one thing they shared was a deep and sustaining friendship that had lasted for decades. They loved each other but it had been Jean-Luc who’d first suggested they take their friendship to a more intimate level. But Beverly wasn’t ready. Years passed and their friendship deepened until one day Beverly decided she wanted the same thing as Jean-Luc. Predictably they didn’t immediately tumble into bed, they discussed the idea thoroughly examining every angle, trying to see every pitfall, anything that might cause damage to their precious friendship, but eventually they were convinced it could withstand the intensity of a sexual relationship.  
That was eight months ago, two and a half since she’d moved in with him. The sex was great and their friendship solid, but their cohabitation wasn’t without some tension. Both stubborn and set in their ways, it had taken careful negotiation to find a mutually satisfactory living arrangement. But they had found one and had begun to settle comfortably with only the occasional, minor hiccup. Now Beverly smiled and shook her head at the domesticity of their situation. She sighed and responded.  
“All day there has been a constant stream of patients coming in. There’s a bug going around. It causes sweats, stomach cramps, vomiting and diarrhoea.”   
Jean-Luc frowned.  
“Should I initiate a quarantine?”  
She shook her head and waved one hand.  
“No,” she said, “It’s not that serious, just damned time consuming. It takes about an hour to successfully treat each patient and with so many to treat none of us has the time to study the samples we’ve taken.”  
Jean-Luc’s one word solution made Beverly scowl.  
“Delegate.”  
Huffing, Beverly said,  
“It’s not that simple. As you know, they’re only five Doctors, two on duty at all times, two off duty and one in reserve. I’ve had to call all of them to handle this thing and I can’t see us getting to research for some time yet.”  
Jean-Luc shrugged.  
“Won’t it eventually run its course and disappear?”  
“I suppose so,” she said with irritation, “But that’s not how I do my job. I need to figure this thing out so I can stop it in its tracks and probably prevent it from surfacing again in the future.”  
He mulled over that for a while, then asked curiously,  
“Will it mutate, do you think?”  
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I might find out if I can study the damned thing!”  
What Jean-Luc suggested next was said with due caution.  
“What about the EMH?”  
Beverly’s glare was poisonous.  
“Only if I absolutely have to. I’ll assign it to research. There’s no way I’ll allow that conceited, arrogant holographic parody of a Doctor to treat any patient in my sickbay!”  
Beverly took a deep breath through her teeth and calmed herself. Summoning a smile she asked,  
“How was your day?”  
He lifted his eyebrows and tilted his head.  
“Nothing out of the ordinary.” He said diffidently. Then, as if remembering something, he snapped his fingers. Mild mischief gleamed in his dark, mossy-green eyes.  
“I’ve been reliably informed that Lieutenant Vennara is romantically involved with Lieutenant Commander Shettle.”  
Beverly gaped, her eyes wide.  
“You’re kidding! Adrian Shettle? You’re sure?”  
“My source is impeccable.”  
Grinning wickedly, Beverly removed her feet from the coffee table and leaned forward.  
“Who told you?”  
In reply Jean-Luc merely held up one finger. He would not divulge his informant. They often gossiped, it was a game they played and neither would disclose their sources. It was perhaps a game they shouldn’t play in their places of superiority of rank, but it amused them no end.  
The conversation drifted to a close and Beverly put her feet back on the low table. Jean-Luc quietly finished his scotch then broke the comfortable silence by asking,  
“Have you eaten?”  
“No,” Beverly said. “I was waiting for you.”  
She made to get up, but Jean-Luc waved her back down.  
“It’s all right,” He said kindly. “I’ll replicate. What would you like?”  
Half an hour later they had eaten and were lingering at the table with a freshly opened bottle of wine. By mutual silent assent, they stood, cleared the table and, each carrying a full glass and Jean-Luc carrying the bottle as well, they moved back to the living area. Beverly took her seat on the sofa, Jean-Luc in his favourite chair opposite, the coffee table between them.   
They drank slowly, the conversation desultory. They had no need to chat constantly; they were relaxed and happy just to be in each other’s company.  
With the last of the wine poured into their glasses, Jean-Luc rose and joined Beverly next to her on the sofa. He rested his arm across the backrest, his fingers touching her shoulder his other hand holding his glass. She turned to him and their eyes met and held. For several long moments they regarded each other before Beverly broke the spell by saying softly,  
“You want to have sex.”  
His reaction to the statement was to lower his eyes to look at his glass. He then tilted his head back, brought the glass to his lips and drained what was left of his wine. Then he turned and gazed at Beverly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth.  
“No,” He said in the same soft tone Beverly had used. “I don’t want to have sex, I want to make love.”  
This was one of the many facets he possessed that Beverly loved. Their sex life was healthy and very active and unpredictable. Sometimes, if the mood took them, they might indulge themselves on the floor, over the table, on the sofa, the chair, or, on rare occasions, up against the wall. Or perhaps one might join the other in the shower. They both knew the difference between sex and making love and what they chose depended entirely on their mood.  
Obviously Jean-Luc wanted to express gentle love and Beverly was more than willing. Offering a slight nod of acceptance, she watched as Jean-Luc placed first his glass, then hers on the coffee table. He then stood and offered his hand, assisting Beverly to her feet. They walked to the bedroom hand in hand.  
Their foreplay was long and languid. There was no need to rush; they knew exactly what they were doing. That wasn’t to say they didn’t find new things to delight each other. Though they’d been intimate for eight months they were still making new discoveries. Nothing huge, nothing stupendous, but little things that gratified and enchanted them.  
When Jean-Luc draped himself over her, Beverly wrapped her legs around his waist anticipating his penetration. When it came, their eyes met as their bodies moulded together. Slowly Jean-Luc established a rhythm that Beverly quickly matched. He rose up on one elbow, his free hand snaking between them to find and caress her clit. With their gaze locked he teased her and she felt her inner self beginning to rise. His eyes seemed to glow as she rapidly ascended and, when she came they watched each other intently. He slowed his fingers, allowing Beverly to recover. Watching carefully, he knew when to begin again. As his fingers began their dance once more, he slightly increased both the speed and depth of his thrusts. Beverly’s second orgasm was a gentle as the first. She sighed, her body completely attuned with his. Still they gazed into each other’s eyes intently. Jean-Luc loved to see her like this. Her skin stained pink with arousal, her beautiful eyes deep blue and mysterious. This is what he saw when he allowed himself to daydream. This is what he’d waited so long to see and it intoxicated him.  
His pace quickening, he knew it would soon end and he wanted that conclusion, that affirmation desperately.  
His eyes darkened and he began to thrust hard and fast. His fingers too increased their stimulation and Beverly’s hips began to buck. She knew the approaching orgasms would be far and above what she’d already experienced. Capable of multi orgasms, Beverly eagerly awaited their arrival. She began the climb, her gaze steady. A dribble of sweat trickled from Jean-Luc’s temple, down his cheek and gathered on his chin, wobbling as his body flexed. It finally dripped and fell on Beverly’s jaw to slide down her slick skin and join the sweat on her neck.  
There were no cries or sighs or moans of pleasure, no whispered endearments; they made love silently, feasting on each other’s gaze.  
Jean-Luc knew she was coming when she suddenly drew a deep breath and held it, her mouth opening wide and her pupils dilating so wide they engulfed her corneas. The first orgasm hit her and her body went rigid. Then wave after wave of orgasms surged through her. While she was caught in ecstasy, Jean-Luc succumbed to his release. Somehow still able to see, Beverly watched his face as he came. The only outward sign of his orgasm was a sharply expelled breath from his open mouth and his eyes wide and staring.  
Unlike a lot of men who liked to do so, Jean-Luc didn’t hold himself deeply inside Beverly as he came. As he ejaculated he kept thrusting, prolonging Beverly’s pleasure. Only when he began to soften did he slow then stop. And only then did he allow himself to relax.  
He sighed deeply and lowered himself until their lips met in a protracted, deliberately slothful kiss. They rested for a little while, but Jean-Luc knew his weight would become uncomfortable for Beverly so he rolled to his side and settled on his back. Beverly turned onto her side and nestled her head on his chest. He curled his arm over her, pulled the covers up and together, happy, sated and content, they drifted off to sleep.

 

The alarm woke Meredith at precisely six hundred hours. Not one to linger, she was rising from the bed when she detected the unmistakable smell of sex emanating from the sheets. With her face screwed up in disgust, she wrenched the linens from the bed and stuffed them rudely into the recycler. The bed was remade in minutes, but the look of distaste never left her face.  
A quick shower and into a fresh uniform. She was grateful she didn’t need to decide what to wear, she had no interest whatsoever in fashion. Meredith took care with her appearance but didn’t use makeup or any elaborate hair styles; in fact she kept her hair quite short. She ate a small breakfast then, after a perfunctory inspection in her mirror, left to begin her shift. To the casual observer there was nothing remarkable about Meredith, a conception she was careful to nurture. It served her purposes.  
Junior school had been largely a non-event, boring and over before she could really begin to hate it. However senior school was a series of tortuous years each one worse than the last. She despised everything about it, the teachers, the students with their petty political schisms, the idolatry nature of the less popular students towards the elite, the curriculum, which she thought beneath her and the constraints of law which required her to complete what she considered to be a pointless waste of her valuable time.  
Alone, ostracised and, with her newly awakened desires, Meredith eventually found a way to cope. Sex. Alone or with a carefully chosen partner. It passed the time, relieved stress and amused her. In her second to last year, at the age of seventeen and with a reputation for sexual excesses, Meredith set her sights on Eva Carmichael. Like Meredith, Eva was a loner, but unlike her, Eva hadn’t chosen to be so.  
Mousey, plain and bookish, she was introverted and painfully shy. She had no friends and suffered terribly from loneliness and no self esteem. When she realised Meredith had taken an interest in her, she was dumbstruck, at first paralysed by the thought. Meredith played to that mercilessly, slowly drawing to girl to her, spinning a web of deceit and lies.  
She pursued Eva relentlessly and eventually the poor girl fell helplessly in love with her. The eventual seduction was ridiculously easy and afterwards, Meredith did what she always did. She not too politely made it clear she wanted Eva to leave.  
There were two major problems with all this. Eva wasn’t gay. And Eva had never experienced sex before. Confused, frightened and abandoned, Eva went home and avoided her loving family. Eva was a mystery to her loved ones. They, her parents and younger siblings were all outgoing and popular. How Eva had become so timid and withdrawn they had no idea. Having failed to bring her out of herself, they instead pitied her and worried endlessly about her.  
Over the next ten days Meredith insisted on meeting for more and more sex. Eva felt helpless in the face of Meredith’s assured superiority and her aggressive sexuality and deep inside her she craved the attention she was getting, so she meekly accepted what was happening.  
But her despair and terrible confusion grew until it became intolerable. This, on top of her already precarious mental state caused a breakdown. On the eleventh day of the relationship Eva committed suicide. She was found by her youngest brother, returning to their home soon after school. She had hung herself from the balustrade of the stairs in the apartment.  
Her family were devastated. Meredith was disappointed. There was an enquiry of course and it soon became obvious that Meredith was being held responsible for Eva’s death. She thought that manifestly unfair, although deep inside she accepted that she may have been a contributing factor in what Eva had done. But with little to go on except rumours, the authorities had no tangible proof that Meredith had done anything wrong. She was subjected to psychological testing but managed to convince the investigators of her innocence, partly because she actually thought herself mostly blameless. Eventually a verdict of suicide was handed down and Meredith was exonerated. Suicide was exceptionally rare in the twenty-fourth century and most people had trouble accepting the verdict, but in the face of the evidence, they had little choice. Her fellow students knew what had happened and hated her, shunning her completely. That suited Meredith just fine, although it made finding a sexual playmate a little harder, but school wasn’t her only smorgasbord. There were other places. But even though she moved on, a part of Meredith, a remote recess in her mind remembered Eva and what they’d shared and that memory would stay with Meredith for the rest of her life. As did her unresolved sorrow.  
Scholastically Meredith excelled. She finished her school years with high grades. She fled the school and didn’t go to the graduation ball. Her application to attend Starfleet Academy was handed in the next day. Her decision to join Starfleet was a logical one. She had reasoned that she would only find the mental stimulation she needed by serving on a Starship, the complex nature of the missions the ships undertook she hoped would give her the variety and depth of experience not found in other pursuits. She understood she’d have to curtail her more extravagant sexual excesses, the closed environment of a Starship meant she would soon use up the available partners and she didn’t want the by now familiar rumours to hamper her new career. It would be a pity, but the ends justified the means. A more conservative approach would pay off in the long run. The other thing she knew she had to do was to be more of a ‘team player’. Her solitary nature was only just tolerated at the Academy, indeed it raised quite a few eyebrows and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get away with it on a ship. Neither could she use, then cast aside her chosen partners. Yes, she would have to become very circumspect. It would be difficult, but she was confident and deep down she knew she might find some kind of peace. At least she hoped so.  
She had no trouble with the tests she sat, but the psychological aspect of the final test caught her out. Instead of gaining a pass, she was ordered to undergo psychological counselling. She seethed with anger, bitter and resentful that the path she’d so carefully laid was being blocked by people she felt were her intellectual inferiors. However there was nothing to be gained by showing her hand. If she wished to realise her goal, she had to submit. In the end it was easy. Long used to living behind a well-constructed facade, Meredith calmly answered the questions put to her just as she knew they wanted her to and told them exactly what they wanted to hear. To a master manipulator like her, it was child’s play. It took three sessions, but eventually Meredith was passed fit to take her place at the Academy.  
The Academy gave her no more intellectual barriers than her school had. She breezed through her four years, aloof and disdainful of her fellow cadets, but not without raising some concerns with her teachers and other students, causing Meredith some trouble, but she managed to placate all her detractors. Of course there were the usual rumours, however most, if not all of Meredith’s partners had little to complain about, it was just her casual approach that caused some conflict. Perhaps it was just jealousy that made others talk maliciously about her behind her back.  
Like school, Meredith didn’t attend the graduation ceremony. She had enrolled at Starfleet Medical. There she did a further two years and emerged as a fully qualified nurse with a rank of Lieutenant, Junior Grade. Some may have questioned her choice of nursing, being so unfeeling of those around her, but Meredith had reasoned that being attached to medical would give her freer access to all other departments. The one thing she hoped to avoid was being confined in her work. Despite her unsavoury reputation, her high marks and exemplary attitude to study and work earned her a place on the Enterprise.  
As she walked the corridors on the way to sickbay, Meredith studiously ignored the other crewmembers she encountered. She had been aboard three months and already rumours were rife, but unlike the Academy, she wasn’t the only one to be the brunt of malicious gossip. In any event it mattered little to her. She ignored it as she always had, but she couldn’t say with any honesty that it didn’t hurt. As long as she quenched her insatiable sexual appetites, all was well as far as she was concerned. Admittedly she was self-absorbed, but no more so than some others she’d met. But Meredith’s true nature was well hidden and rarely seen. She felt safe in her self-imposed bubble. Safe, relaxed and aware. Always aware.  
She stepped confidently through the double doors and came to an abrupt halt, her mouth gaping. There in front of her, standing under the bright white lights of the central hub of Sickbay, stood the most beautiful thing Meredith had ever seen.  
Beverly Crusher was highlighted by the light above her. The illumination picked out the variations in colour of her lustrous red hair. Her skin, alabaster and flawless, her eyes a clear cerulean blue...and so expressive! Hands, tapered and elegant, such clever hands. Snapping her mouth closed, Meredith quickly gathered her scrambled thoughts. Her vision cleared and she studied Beverly with a more clinical appraisal. Impudently, Meredith’s eyes slid down, slowly staring longingly at Beverly’s body. Down from her face, lingering at the breasts, then down admiring the flat stomach and pausing at her crotch. Heat began to blossom in Meredith’s centre. Her eyes devoured Beverly’s long legs...dancer’s legs, Meredith knew. She sighed deeply, imagining those long supple legs around her. Her eyes were just beginning to retrace their passage when Beverly’s voice, carrying a gentle rebuke, startled Meredith out of her mental striptease.  
“Lieutenant!”  
Focusing on her boss’s face, Meredith cursed inwardly. Being caught admiring the woman she loved appalled her. It was an unforgivable lapse. As she gave herself a mental shake she saw that Beverly was frowning, obviously displeased. Meredith showed no outward sign, but she was dismayed.  
“Fuck!” She yelled silently. Beverly tilted her head and beckoned Meredith over. The Lieutenant didn’t know which was worse, her uncharacteristic error or Beverly’s softening, sympathetic face.  
Standing at attention before her, Meredith didn’t look into Beverly’s eyes, preferring instead to stare at her forehead.  
“Lieutenant?” Beverly said with care. “Are you all right?”  
Forcing a smile that only involved her mouth, Meredith replied crisply,  
“Yes, Doctor, I’m fine.”  
“You sure?” Asked Beverly. “I’ve not seen you so...distant before. Is there something on your mind?”  
Panic surged through Meredith, leaving her speechless. Beverly mistook her hesitation for worry. Ever compassionate, the red head placed a maternal hand on Meredith’s shoulder, her eyes soft and inviting.  
“I’m sure I can help if you’d like to tell me.”  
Meredith couldn’t stop her eyes from briefly closing, her humiliation growing with every passing second. Again, Beverly didn’t see the real source of Meredith’s continued silence.  
“Lieutenant?” Beverly said softly. “Meredith, isn’t it? Would you like to come to my office with me? We can talk there.”  
Finally Meredith found her voice. What came out was a strangled sound, startling both women.. Mortified, Meredith coughed and tried again, this time with more success.  
“No!” She bit her lower lip and tried again. “No, Doctor, I’m fine, really.” She said in a more normal tone.  
Not convinced, Beverly wasn’t going to give up easily.  
“I had to call you three times. You were obviously engrossed in something. Lost in thought, perhaps?”  
Meredith conjured up a look of discomfort and overt sadness.  
“I...um...I had a fight with my partner.” She said quietly.  
Beverly’s concerned expression made Meredith want to scream with self-damnation.  
“I see.” She said gently. “Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m here, or maybe you want to speak to Counsellor Troi, that’d be fine. And if you want personal time, I can arrange it, but if you turn up for duty, I expect you to leave your problems in your quarters. That may sound harsh, but our work is too important and often too involved to allow the staff to be distracted by personal issues. Do you understand?”  
Meredith wanted to drag Beverly to the ground to punish her for such humiliation, but all Meredith could do was nod and mumble something incoherent. Satisfied she’d got her message across; Beverly smiled and gestured to the lab.  
“We’re running an analysis of the samples we’ve taken of the pathogen loose on the ship. I want you to assist the EMH.”  
Luckily Beverly turned away before she saw Meredith’s reaction to her orders. Indignation made Meredith mute. How could she? How could she demean her like that? In front of everybody! Work with the fucking EMH?! It was worse than banishing her from main Sickbay, it was purgatory! Meredith spun on her heel and stalked stiffly into the lab. The EMH, (Emergency Medical Hologram), was bent over a microscope and tut-tutted as Meredith entered. Without looking up, the balding, acerbic man said archly,  
“It’s about time I got some help. You there, get me the other slides.”  
Meredith blinked and her mouth set in a grim line. She marched over to the rude man and hissed in his ear,  
“Let’s get one thing straight. You exist only as long as I say! You annoy me, you insult me and I’ll simply turn you off. Understand, holoman?”  
Lifting his head, the emergency medic stared unbelievingly at the angry woman. He swallowed and squeaked,  
“You wouldn’t dare.”  
Meredith said nothing, but her toxic glare made her feelings perfectly clear. With a bob of his head, the hologram said respectfully,  
“I need the new slides. Would you get them for me please?”  
As Meredith turned to comply she muttered darkly,  
“Better. Keep it up.”  
As they worked, her anger subsided into a slowly glowing bed of embers. Calmer, she dissected the incident with Beverly moment-by-moment and came to the conclusion that it was probably unavoidable, considering her mistake. That’s not to say she accepted it was her fault, but she was willing to forgive Beverly, just this once. She smiled to herself as she remembered how imperious Beverly had looked as she’d admonished her. In her skewed mind, Meredith had seen not gentle guidance, not compassion, but autocracy and cold authority. She frowned as she thought of ways...techniques she could employ that would make Beverly look upon her with more sensual eyes. Yes, all she’d need was time, time to make Beverly aware of how she felt about her. Then, of course, Beverly would be happy to allow Meredith to demonstrate her love. Oh yes, it would be glorious!  
A stray thought caused her face to contort into a worried grimace. Captain Picard. Although she’d heard the rumours, she simply couldn’t believe Beverly Crusher, her Beverly, would be so vulgar as to have anything to do with the Captain. From what she’d seen, he was a cold fish indeed. She’d even heard they were living together! Preposterous! Beverly would never do such an unthinkable thing! Especially when Meredith Bower wanted her. To even consider anything else was...insanity! No, it simply wasn’t true.  
Mollified, Meredith hummed quietly as she began to form her plans. She was patient...to a point. She shrugged. It mattered not, once Beverly knew she wanted her, she was certain the Doctor would submit happily. Yes, I will love her and she will worship me. Sighing happily, Meredith even forgot the EMH was there.

Just after thirteen hundred, Beverly breezed into the lab and smiled to herself at the EMH’s sour expression. Ordinarily the mere sight of the man sent Beverly’s blood pressure rising, but the smug look on Lieutenant Bower’s face spoke volumes. She went to the young woman and said,  
“Report.”  
“We, that is I have managed to isolate the pathogen and we’re in the process of developing a vaccine, Sir.” She said proudly, fully expecting praise. She was a little disappointed, however.  
Beverly’s smile was a wide one.  
“Well done, both of you.” Her eyes left Meredith as she addressed the EMH. “Doctor, would you show me the analysis?”  
As Beverly went to him, Meredith barely concealed her irritation. She lowered her head so she could watch Beverly from under her brow while the Doctor consulted with the EMH. It irked Meredith that the object of her desires would ignore her in favour of a damned hologram, but being the subordinate in the room, she had little option but to accept the situation as it was. Having learned what she wanted, Beverly turned just in time to see Meredith watching her intently, with hungry, dark eyes. It was only a glimpse, but it stopped Beverly in her tracks. However, Meredith had already cast her eyes down and was busy tapping away on a PADD. The incident had been so fleeting Beverly wondered if she’d really seen anything at all. With a frown creasing her forehead, Beverly said carefully,  
“Seeing that the EMH has everything well in hand, you can join the rest of the staff in assisting with the influx of patients, Lieutenant.”  
“Yes, Doctor.” Replied Meredith, barely containing her satisfaction. Working alongside the woman she loved was a joy. Beverly noted the happy smile and the deeply ravenous look and was taken aback. She gave Meredith a long, measuring look and pointed to the door. The nurse’s eyes slid away as she quietly turned and left. It was a very thoughtful Beverly who follower her out.  
For the remainder of the day they were busy treating patients and Beverly had little opportunity to check up on Meredith, but the Lieutenant had ample time to watch the Doctor. She had manoeuvred herself so that she was the nurse assisting Beverly but made sure she showed nothing but professional detachment. There was too much at stake to tip her hand too soon. Besides, once Beverly knew how she felt, there would be ample time to explore their feelings for each other. Oh yes, Beverly Crusher was something special, something to be treasured.  
It wasn’t until Meredith had reached the end of her shift that she approached the CMO. Making sure her voice showed no trace of her desire, Meredith said respectfully,  
“Am I dismissed, Doctor?”  
Beverly was smiling when she looked up, but that same odd, intense look in Meredith’s eyes wiped the smile from her face. Arranging her features into something bland, Beverly said,  
“Of course, Lieutenant. Thank you for your assistance.”  
Meredith’s eyes flickered and she summoned a smile.  
“You’re welcome, Doctor, I can assure you, it was my pleasure.”  
It was a naive and clumsy attempt at coquettishness, but unused to the nuances of courtship, Meredith thought she was being sophisticated.  
She turned and left Sickbay, her stride confident as she knew Beverly was watching her. And indeed she was, but not with the interest Meredith thought. More like alarm.

 

Both Jean-Luc and Beverly often worked on past the end of their shift; they knew their positions required they set an example to the crew. So it wasn’t unusual for one or the other, most times both, to be late arriving at their quarters. On this early evening, they saw each other as they rounded opposite ends of the corridor outside their rooms. Beverly offered a tired smile, but Jean-Luc, ever aware of prying eyes, merely nodded. Knowing he wouldn’t like to tarry outside, Beverly entered, followed quickly by the Captain. Once inside the privacy of their quarters, Jean-Luc reached forward and caught Beverly’s hand. She halted and turned, watching with a tender smile as Jean-Luc gently pulled her to him and kissed her. He said softly,  
“Hello, Beverly.”  
To which she replied just as softly,  
“Hello, Jean-Luc.”  
The greeting was a ritual, and it made them grin like fools.   
“Would you like to shower while I set the table?” Asked Jean-Luc, solicitously.  
“Oh, that would be lovely.” Said Beverly, with heartfelt appreciation.  
Twenty minutes later, Beverly stood at the replicator, dressed in her nightie and robe, queuing their orders for dinner. Jean-Luc always took quick showers so he emerged from the bedroom just as Beverly began taking dishes to the table. He was clad only in a pair of dark blue satin shorts and Beverly grinned as she admired him. Offering a mildly disgruntled snort, he disappeared back into the bedroom and when he came out again, he was wearing his robe.  
“Spoilsport.” Muttered Beverly, good naturedly, to which Jean-Luc replied, “It was never my intention to sit at the dinner table semi-naked.”  
“Pity, I was enjoying the view.”  
“Hmph.”  
As they ate their evening meal, Beverly lapsed into silence and Jean-Luc noticed she didn’t seem all that interested in her food. She seemed preoccupied. He considered asking her what was on her mind, but didn’t, deciding that if she needed to talk to him, she would do so in her own time.  
It was much later, while Beverly sat quietly contemplating the view of the passing streaks of light, a PADD lying unread on her lap and while Jean-Luc was reading a book that she eventually said,  
“I think I might have a problem with one of my staff.”  
Lowering his book, Jean-Luc frowned.  
“What kind of a problem?” He asked.  
“I’m not sure.” She replied, carefully. It was only because of their relationship that allowed Jean-Luc to hear of this directly. Usually, if there was a problem a crewmember, then the department head involved, in this case Beverly, would submit a report to the First Officer, Will Riker. Only if it was a serious matter would it be brought to the attention of the Captain.  
“I had a very disconcerting feeling when one of my nurses was looking at me.” Beverly recalled.  
“That doesn’t sound like much of a problem.” Jean-Luc remarked.  
Frowning, Beverly shook her head, trying to put her disquiet into words.  
“I know it doesn’t sound like much, but...I don’t know...” She said cautiously. “I had this terrible feeling, as if I was being studied.”  
“Studied for what purpose?” Asked a now concerned Jean-Luc.  
Taking a deep breath, Beverly looked into the middle distance, not really seeing anything. After a few moments she shook her head and shrugged.  
“I don’t know. Just a gut feeling I guess.” She smiled, but her eyes were still troubled.  
“Well, let me know if there’re any more incidents. I’d rather we snuffed this out now before it grows.”  
“Oh, I don’t think you need worry about it, Jean-Luc. She’s one of my nurses, I’m sure I can sort it out. It certainly doesn’t need the personal attention of the Captain.” She grinned.  
Raising his eyebrows, Jean-Luc opened the book at began to read. When he spoke there was a hint of amusement in his voice.  
“Of course, Beverly, but if there are any advantages to being the Captain’s lover, discipline would be one of them.”  
Scandalised, Beverly gaped.  
“The Captain’s lover? Oh, that’s just lovely! How about the Captain’s woman?” With a sly smirk, she said cheekily, “Okay, if I’m the Captain’s lover...that would make you the CMO’s inamorato.”  
He kept his eyes on his book and smiled.  
“But of course.” He said with charm. He could be insufferably smug at times. He raised his eyes and smiled, then sobered.  
“Really, Beverly,” He said with genuine feeling. “If you think a word from me might resolve things, let me know, I’d be only too happy to help.”  
With a soft snort, Beverly smiled ruefully.  
“Thank you, but I don’t think that would go down too well. The woman involved is very independent and a little head-strong. She would most likely react badly to a word from her Captain, no matter how you went about it.”  
“What is her rank?” Asked Jean-Luc.  
“Lieutenant. She was promoted very rapidly, mainly because of the two extra years she did at Medical before she graduated. That and her exemplary record pushed her up the line.” Beverly replied thoughtfully.  
“Although...”  
“Yes?” Jean-Luc asked expectantly.  
“Perhaps I might’ve been a little premature.” Beverly sighed and rubbed her forehead. “She seems to have developed a problem in working with others. I’ve noticed recently she’s been a tad remote and reclusive.” Beverly sighed again. “Listen to me! You’d think I’d never come across an emotional young woman before. Just today she told me she’d had an argument with her partner. It’s no wonder she was off kilter.”  
Jean-Luc frowned.  
“So there’s more than one problem with her?” He asked, now clearly displeased. “Beverly, I don’t have to tell you that allowing small problems to fester does no good. I’m certainly not telling you how to run your department, but you have to do something about this.”  
Slightly irritated, Beverly offered a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.  
“Understood. I’ll speak with her tomorrow.” She said coolly. Jean-Luc went back to his book, but cursed softly to himself. That hadn’t gone the way he wanted it to. It was yet another thing they had to negotiate. How to separate the professional from the personal. Beverly had told him of her concerns as his friend and he’d reacted as her Captain. Damn! The longer he stayed silent, the thicker the atmosphere became. Her face set in an angry moue, Beverly rose and began to turn, but Jean-Luc stopped her.  
“Beverly,” He said softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry, I chose my words poorly.” He took a calming breath and ordered his thoughts. “Speaking as your friend, I can see how unsettling this situation is for you. You wanted nothing more than to tell me about something that concerned you and I overreacted.” He bowed his head and sighed. Having considered his words, he continued. “It was entirely instinctive that I thought as your Captain and not as your friend. In future I will endeavour to put greater distance between the two.”  
The smile that graced Beverly’s face was a warm one and one that forgave her best friend. Offering a small nod, she said,  
“Thanks, Jean-Luc.” She snorted softly. “I knew what you were doing...and why, I just...hell, I overreacted too. You needn’t worry; I have the matter in hand.”  
He smiled up at her.  
“I knew you did.” He said gently.   
They shared a moment or two of peaceful silence before Beverly said softly,  
“I’m going to bed. Coming?”  
He glanced at the tumbler beside him and noted the amount of scotch in it. It was a nearly full measure.  
“No, I think I’ll read for a while longer.” He said.  
“Okay.” Beverly walked to the bedroom, then stopped and turned.  
“I’ll keep the bed warm for you.”  
He just smiled at her before returning to his book.

 

As the last words of the novel were read, Meredith frowned. Instead of leaving her wistful, as the synopsis had suggested it would, she felt nothing but confusion. It had been a romance, a genre she’d rarely read before nor would she ever again if that was all there was to it.  
How insipid it’d been, how pale. The declarations of love were insincere, lacking heat and power. The heroine in the story had courted and wooed the woman she desired, she hadn’t waited until boldly declaring her feelings, sure in the knowledge the subject of her desires would be happy to know and reciprocate. No, if this was romance it was like nothing Meredith recognised. She sat back and screwed up her face, tabbing the monitor off with more force than she’d intended. “Love.” She said at last, shaking her head. “That wasn’t love. That was...playing a game...seeing who can resist the other for as long as they can. I know what love is. It’s...” Her sight lost its focus as she looked inward and accessed her inner self, the one she kept so very well hidden. The vacant expression on her face was sad. The cold smile was worse, it was tragic. “It’s hunger...an appetite that can never be satisfied.”  
She blinked and sighed.  
“I don’t need sappy romances to tell me what love is. Once I have Beverly, I’ll show her.”  
Completely convinced of her certainty, Meredith sat back in her seat and tapped her communicator.  
“Bower to Greensale.”  
“Greensale, here. What do you want, Meredith?” Said a clearly irritated voice.  
“You. My quarters, five minutes.” Said an obviously aroused Meredith.  
“Dammit, Meredith, you can’t just snap your fingers and expect me to...”  
“Five minutes. Bower out.”  
She felt so confident her current lover would acquiesce she went to the bedroom and got out some of her toys. In deference to Elsie Greensale she only chose the ones she liked. It wasn’t often Meredith allowed anyone’s preferences to override hers, but she was feeling extraordinarily generous. Besides, in the end it would be Elsie begging for more. Meredith never begged. Never. Safe in her utter conviction she’d settled the question of love, Meredith disrobed and stood by her bedroom door, waiting for her lover. She smiled smugly. She would make Elsie pay a most delightful price for threatening to blackmail her. The thought that Elsie might not come never entered her head. And she was right. Elsie arrived three minutes later. Such was Meredith’s powers of persuasion and sexual proficiency. She felt warmth pervade her body as she thought about sharing her prodigious knowledge with Beverly. She made a decision there and then. Until she could enchant Beverly into her bed, she would practice on Elsie, perfecting her skills in preparation of what she was certain to be mind-blowing sex with the woman of her dreams.

 

Several days passed with only one incident. The vaccine had proved effective and the stream of patients had trickled to an end. sickbay reverted to its normally quiet self. Meredith was on night shift and saw nothing of Beverly, however she did have time to spend listening to general gossip and high on the list was the presumed relationship between Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher. Meredith still chose not to believe, but more and more crew were seeing things, subtle signs that the rumours may indeed be true.  
Having assisted in the delivery of a newborn, Meredith took a break. A mug of hot coffee in hand, she went into the sickbay’s conference room and took a seat while gazing out at the passing stars. It was oh three twenty and on a whim she asked quietly,  
“Computer, what is the location of Doctor Crusher?”  
“Doctor Crusher is in Captain Picard’s quarters.”  
Sitting bolt upright, Meredith ignored the coffee that slopped onto her hand. Her mind raced as she tried to absorb the information. One part of her refused to acknowledge the truth; another part was trying to come up with a plausible explanation.  
“Maybe the Captain is ill?” She reasoned. There was a way to find out, but she hesitated. Did she really want to know? She shook her head, attempting to think of something else, but one disturbing image kept intruding into her thoughts. Them... her Beverly and the captain. Together.  
Angry, she lifted her head.  
“Computer, is Doctor Crusher asleep?”  
“Yes.”  
As Meredith bowed her head, she screwed her eyes closed tightly, trying to erase the image in her mind.  
“No, not my Beverly. Surely she wouldn’t...not with him.”  
But the evidence was there. If not in his bed with him, what else would Beverly be doing asleep in the captain’s quarters?  
Meredith had tried so hard, been so vigilant to prevent this, this exquisite pain. It wasn’t worth it, it never was. But could she deny her feelings this time? This wasn’t like the other times, this thing she felt, this love, could it, would it be denied?  
Sighing deeply, Meredith studied her coffee as if it had the answers. There was nothing she could do, other than to keep trying, keep her plans going ahead. Surely once she’d made her feelings known, Beverly would accept her? Such was the strength of Meredith’s emotions she was willing, if Beverly insisted, to tolerate Beverly maintaining her relationship with the captain, anything as long as Meredith had Beverly. The nurse suddenly realised something. In accepting that Beverly might not give up the captain whilst in a relationship with her, Meredith had proven yet again it was love she felt. She never accepted anything but total fidelity from her partners. In allowing Beverly to two-time her while she herself remained faithful was a first. Yes, it had to be love!  
How strange, she thought. I’m changing for her, becoming that which will please her and I haven’t done anything yet! If she needed any more proof than that, she didn’t know where to find it. Without even telling Beverly how she felt, things were already going ahead. What had begun with terrible pain was now nothing but joyous anticipation.  
Meredith returned to work, her heart light. She had only three more night shifts before she would once again be working with Beverly. She would wait patiently. Time was of no consequence, not now.

 

Deanna Troi, ship’s counsellor frowned at the monitor, the information giving her cause for concern. On coming aboard for the first time, each new crewmember underwent a psychological evaluation and thereafter had, as all crewmembers had, two every year.  
Sometimes the transition between postings or indeed for those fresh from the Academy with no Starship experience, could be unsettling, so these evaluations were to help in easing the new crewmember into life aboard their new ship. It was as much for Deanna as it was for the individual concerned. It was her way of getting to know everybody. By and large these evaluations were a formality, but occasionally the counsellor would come across someone in need of help. Nothing serious, of course, just a helping hand, so-to-speak. But the profile on the screen made Deanna shake her head. She checked the name again. Meredith Bower. Deanna read the record again and sighed. There was something...something not quite right. This crewmember had passed the evaluation, why didn’t she pick up on this then? Deanna thought back, trying to remember anything about the session. When nothing came to mind the only conclusion she could draw was that there wasn’t anything to arouse her interest. Why had it surfaced now?  
Checking again, Deanna saw that Meredith Bower was a nurse working under her best friend, Beverly Crusher. A quick look at Meredith’s roster told her she was on night shift, but as it was nearly twenty hundred hours, Deanna thought Meredith might well be awake. She tapped her communicator.  
“Troi to Bower.”  
There was a well-disguised hint if wariness when Meredith responded.  
“Bower here, Counsellor.”  
Choosing her words carefully, Deanna said lightly,  
“Would it be possible for you to drop by my quarters before you go on duty, Lieutenant?”  
“Ah, I’m a bit busy, Counsellor. Perhaps some other time?”  
It wasn’t a refusal, but Deanna couldn’t help but feel she was being fobbed off by a woman who clearly didn’t want to see her. Putting a bit more steel into her voice, Deanna said,  
“I’m afraid not, Lieutenant. I have an hour free at twenty-thirty. I expect to see you then in my office. Troi out.”  
Sitting back in her seat, Deanna lifted her hand to her communicator, but paused. Bearing in mind the time, she lowered her hand and sighed.  
“No, not now. I’ll talk to Beverly about this tomorrow.” She said with certainty.  
In her quarters, Meredith scowled darkly. “What the hell does she want?” Psych evaluations always caused Meredith’s stomach to sour. She could handle them, quite easily if she really tried, but the thought that someone was wishing to delve into what she considered private territory irked her. She’d never tolerated trespassers, not of her mind or her body. She was only comfortable when she was in control. And to make matters worse, counsellor Troi was a Betazoid/human hybrid capable of sensing emotions. Meredith sighed and rubbed her forehead. Still, it could be worse. Full Betazoids were telepathic. If having your emotions read was bad, having your thoughts heard was far worse. She tried to think of a way out, of finding an excuse that would keep her from the appointment, but that only led to the frustrating conclusion that even if she did put Deanna off, the counsellor would simply reschedule. No, there was no getting out of it, she had to comply. That left only one course. Somehow she had to discover a method to manage her emotions in such a way that they didn’t become too obvious. It would have to be a very fine balance because too controlled would alarm the counsellor as much as too emotional would.  
She knew from past experience she was perfectly capable of keeping her emotions under tight control, however, that didn’t mean she was good enough to hide from Deanna. Anything she felt, even muted would be picked up by the empath. Still, she felt confident she could manage. So, faced with the inevitable, Meredith did what she always did. She retreated. Deanna Troi would ask her questions, attempt to lead her into some sort of disclosure and Meredith would tell her exactly what she wanted to hear whilst remaining calm. The lieutenant wouldn’t come across as perfect, far from it. She would have flaws, problems and quirks, just like any normal person. There wouldn’t be any reason for Deanna to suspect that she was anything other than what she saw and heard. Meredith smiled slyly. “It’ll be a bravura performance.” She chuckled then and left her quarters, knowing turning up early, after sounding so wary might just put the counsellor on the back foot.

 

Deanna sensed Meredith’s approach and scarcely noted the time, so intense was her concentration. There it was, elusive and slippery. The something. She was frowning deeply as the door annunciator sounded. Arranging her features into a pleasant visage, Deanna called out in her soft, musical voice,  
“Come in, Lieutenant.”   
Meredith sneered, thinking unkindly that Deanna was showing off by demonstrating her ability to recognise someone through a closed door. Little did she know that Deanna had an awareness of her well before she even left her quarters. The Counsellor was aware of everybody on the ship. It was only close proximity that sharpened her senses.  
Meredith entered, the sneer replaced by a shy smile, her ‘I’m just a shy, meek nurse’ persona in place. At a gesture from Deanna she sat on the comfortable sofa and folded her hands in her lap, a picture of studied normalcy.   
Deanna’s eyes were a deep, obsidian black as were all Betazoids and to those who didn’t know her well, it was very difficult to see anything in them. Where one might detect anger or love or fear in a human’s eyes, to the casual observer a Betazoids eyes were blank. One large inky black pupil that seemed to neither contract nor dilate. Meredith tried not to feel any dismay. She’d been through this with her before and she could do it again. She just had to stay calm.  
Smiling warmly and with her body completely relaxed, Deanna asked softly,  
“Do you know why I’ve asked you here tonight?”  
Offering a confused smile, Meredith shook her head.  
“No, I’m afraid I don’t, Counsellor.” She said with remarkable sincerity. “But I must remind you, I have to be on duty soon.”  
Meredith watched Deanna carefully, wondering if she’d overstepped. Damn, it was difficult! Not knowing how far she could push. Deanna seemed serene and unruffled by what she’d said. She nodded, her smile never faltering.  
“That’s all right, Lieutenant.” She said mildly. “If you’re late I’ll clear it with your shift leader.”  
“Damn!” Meredith thought darkly, then immediately quelled the emotion that accompanied the mild curse. “Okay, that didn’t work, time to just watch, listen and go along for the ride.”  
“I was reading your profile,” Remarked a fully aware Deanna, “And I was struck by how quickly you were promoted. Do you think you were ready for that?”  
“Hmm,” Thought Meredith. “An interesting opening gambit.”  
She shrugged.  
“Oh, I think so, Counsellor.” Replied Meredith confidently. “It’s not as if I wasn’t ready for the increased work load.”  
“Yes,” Agreed Deanna. “But what about the increased responsibility? You have more people working under you now and you’re responsible for their work as well as your own.”  
Smiling inside, Meredith almost cheered. This was familiar territory. When she’d left Medical as a Lieutenant JG she’d been made well aware of just what that entailed. Her rapid promotion to full Lieutenant was something she’d taken in her stride. Trying not to look too smug and making sure she felt calm, Meredith gave a smile that ended up looking way too condescending.  
“It’s fine, Counsellor,” She said. “I’m not having any problems.”  
“You might not be, but what about those under you?”  
Meredith frowned, not fully understanding the question. “Ah, I’ve not heard any complaints.”  
Deanna’s smile was sympathetic and it made Meredith want to sneer. She had yet to learn what a compassionate and highly skilled person Deanna was. Her smiles were always genuine, never false. Softly she said,  
“You may not hear what you don’t want to hear.”  
“What kind of psychobabble is this?” Meredith thought with irritation. Deanna’s senses picked it up instantly.  
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” She said tightly.  
Leaning forward, Deanna stared into Meredith’s eyes and it took all her concentration not to look away.  
“You wouldn’t hear them, Meredith, because you don’t interact with them.” Deanna said gently. “You’re so absorbed in your work you barely notice those who work under you and your remoteness doesn’t make for good working relations. Do you think an Ensign working under you would feel comfortable coming to you with a problem?”  
Meredith gaped, she couldn’t help it. She almost laughed out loud.  
“Counsellor,” She said mildly, “I’m a nurse. Rank has little bearing on the kind of work I do. It doesn’t matter much what rank you are, the work is pretty much the same for everyone.”  
Deanna’s face didn’t show it, but she was highly annoyed. Because she wasn’t yet sure of what exactly it was that concerned her about this woman, she’d tried to elicit some sense of her personality by approaching her through the familiar area of work and, by what she’d sensed so far, not that much was wrong. However, she’d been very effectively shot down. So, another tack, then.  
Deanna sat back and crossed her legs, clasping her hands over her knee. Her smile was warm and inviting.  
“So, Lieutenant, tell me about yourself.”  
Meredith grinned inside. Victory was within her grasp but she carefully damped down her emotions.  
“Oh, Counsellor,” She murmured with false modesty. “There’s nothing much to say, really. What you see is what you get. All you need to know is in my profile.”  
It was a veiled statement, not lost on Deanna. Deflecting the throwaway declaration, Deanna said,  
“Not everything is in a profile, Lieutenant. Your childhood for example. What was that like?”  
“Persistent, if not predictable.” Thought Meredith sardonically. Out loud she said, “I had a very pleasant childhood, Counsellor. My parents, siblings and I travelled a lot when I was young, but the household was a stable one.”  
Keeping her gaze steady, Deanna was aware of how disconcerting some humans found her eyes and exploited it with careful intensity.  
“I see.” She said evenly. “And your school years?”  
Unease trickled through Meredith, but outwardly she remained calm.  
“What can I say? I found junior school rather boring and senior school barely adequate.” She did try not to be complacent.  
Nodding thoughtfully, Deanna said,  
“You have a very high IQ.”  
“Mmm.” The nurse agreed. “I suppose that’s the reason I found school so underwhelming. Not enough stimulation.”  
A small frown creased Deanna’s brow and she leaned her head slightly to one side.  
“I find it interesting that you use the word ‘stimulation’. There is an entry in your record that details an incident in your penultimate year in senior school. It involved the apparent suicide of one Eva Carmichael.”  
Meredith blanched and swallowed hard and Deanna felt the accompanying surge of alarm. Scrambling to recover, she eventually found her voice, though it was barely a whisper.  
“How did that get into my record?” She uttered, aghast.  
Leaning further forward, Deanna reached out and put a hand on Meredith’s knee. It was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but Meredith felt only resentment, which Deanna found very interesting.  
“Lieutenant,” She said gently, “When a person is going to be posted to a Starship, a very detailed profile is generated. Not everyone makes it into space, the rigours of long missions and the constraints of working in a closed environment are factors that have to be taken into account. Of those that are chosen, we have to be sure they can cope. That means we have to know more about them, more then would be usual. The profile developed of you at the Academy was thorough, but not as thorough as this one.”  
She sat back and paused, watching Meredith. She still couldn’t decide what it was about the woman that set off her alarm. Putting that aside, she returned to her query.  
“I would like to talk to you about Eva Carmichael.”  
Meredith had barely heard what Deanna had said. “This can’t be happening!” She thought, panicking. “Not after I worked so hard.” In her mind she saw everything unravelling. Her job, Beverly...Abruptly brought up, she clenched her jaw and made a concerted effort to control herself. When she felt ready, Meredith engaged Deanna’s gaze steadily and ordered her features.  
“What do you want to know?” Yes, she thought, that sounded okay.  
Deanna had easily sensed most of her inner turmoil and marvelled at her ability to gather herself. Unfortunately, Deanna didn’t fully understand the scope of Meredith’s panic, mistaking it for merely not wishing to talk about a matter that was obviously very personal.  
“Just tell me what happened.” Purred Deanna in her most mesmerising voice.  
“There’s not much to tell, actually.” Demurred Meredith. “Eva was my lover for a short time. She had problems and they became too much and she took her own life.”  
Taking a soft breath, Deanna said carefully,  
“You sound quite detached about it.”  
With a shrug, Meredith cocked her head to one side.  
“It was an unfortunate event that happened some years ago.” She said quietly. “I’ve put it behind me.”  
“I see.” Said Deanna. “Was Eva your first lover?”  
“No, nor was she the last.”  
“And how would you describe your relationships?”  
“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Counsellor.” Meredith was getting annoyed.  
“Well,” Mused Deanna. “Are they satisfying? Do you maintain good relationships with past lovers?”  
“I really don’t know what that has to do with anything, Counsellor.” Meredith said testily. “Surely you have better things to do with your time that to ask me about my sex life.”  
The harsh words flowed over Deanna, leaving her untouched. More telling than her irritated words was the undercurrent of anger, fear and resentment, coming from the woman. Deanna smiled, her black eyes glittering.  
“I didn’t ask about your sex life, Lieutenant.” Deanna’s voice carried a hint of decisiveness.  
“I asked you about your relationships. Do you know the difference?”  
Quickly rising to her feet, Meredith fisted her hands at her sides.  
“Counsellor, I protest your invasive questions about my personal life. I fail to see how this is of any relevance with regard to my work.” Clearly incensed, Meredith was only just hanging on to what little remained of her control. “I ask you this, Counsellor. Do you consider me fit to work?”  
Looking up, Deanna offered a small smile and inclined her head.  
“Yes. For now.”  
Without being dismissed, Meredith spun on her heel and stalked from the room. Deanna watched her until the doors closed and hid her from view. It was a very introspective Counsellor who murmured,  
“Well, that was interesting.”  
Yet, although she felt she had learned more about the lieutenant, the ineffable something that had first disturbed her remained elusive. Her reactions, though understandable were not what Deanna had expected. Indeed she was left feeling that there was much more to Meredith Bower than met the eye. All the more reason to talk to her boss, Beverly Crusher.

 

Deanna was up early the next day and called Beverly. She was aware of the Doctor’s current living arrangements and was careful not to disturb her captain. She habitually met with Beverly every morning before breakfast to exercise together. The call was to warn her that she wished to discuss one of Beverly’s staff.  
As Beverly made her was to the gym, she pondered what Deanna had said and came to the conclusion the discussion had to be about lieutenant Bower. She could think of no one else on her staff that might have raised any concerns of the ship’s counsellor. Of course she may be doing the woman a grave injustice, but Beverly had learned to listen to her intuition.  
The friends met and started their stretches. It was while they were seated in front of each other, legs spread wide and their hands joined as they pulled gently against one another, that Deanna remarked softly,  
“I had an interesting session with Lieutenant Bower last night.”  
“Did you now?” Beverly said, grimacing slightly as her back complained. “May I ask, who requested the session? You or the Lieutenant?”  
With her own expression of discomfort on her face, Deanna’s breath hissed through her teeth.  
“It was me.” She puffed. “I was reading her file and something...”  
She groaned softly, making Beverly grin wickedly and say,  
“You’re not as supple as you used to be.”  
“Hmph!” Deanna scowled. “I’m not the one having monkey sex! No wonder you’re so damned supple.”  
Scandalised, Beverly’s eyes danced.  
“We don’t have monkey sex!” She stated firmly. Then with amusement said, “Really, Deanna, can you imagine Jean-Luc...”  
They both laughed and Beverly blushed. She composed herself and said with a more serious air,  
“You were saying?”  
Deanna sobered.  
“Yes. I can’t honestly say what it was...certainly nothing obvious, but there was definitely something that disturbed me.”  
“So you scheduled a session.”  
Deanna frowned and tilted her head.  
“Not exactly.” She murmured. “Actually, I called her there and then and all but ordered to attend immediately.”  
Beverly let go of Deanna’s hands and pulled her right ankle until her foot rested on her crotch.  
“Really?” She said. “You were that concerned?”  
“Well, yes, but I don’t want to give the impression that I think the Lieutenant’s unstable, she’s not...at least I don’t think so.”  
Beverly watched as Deanna thought about the subject some more. While she was occupied, Beverly bent sideways and stretched until her fingers met the toes of out outstretched foot.   
“I have some concerns about her too.” Beverly said, her voice a little strained.  
“Really?” Deanna asked, her interest colouring her voice. “What sort of concerns?”  
Sitting up and arching her back, Beverly frowned.  
“Well, like you, I can’t really put my finger on it...it’s just a feeling, I guess. I’ve seen her looking at me a couple of times...and her eyes held...something I can’t quite identify. I just know I didn’t like it, although it was odd in a way. As soon as our eyes met, she looked away.”  
“Hmm,” Hummed Deanna. “I wonder.”  
“What?”  
“Oh, I don’t know, I just...”  
She shook her head and shrugged, saying nothing further. They continued their stretches for a while before Beverly said gently,  
“You have some kind of idea, don’t you.”  
Taking a deep breath, Deanna nodded, but reluctantly.  
“I do, yes, but I really need more information before I can be sure.”  
“Care to tell me?”  
“Um...okay, but I want you to know what I say isn’t backed up by any real diagnosis. It’s just a suspicion, nothing more.”  
“Okay.”  
Choosing her words carefully, Deanna looked at Beverly and said softly,  
“Mild autism.”  
Beverly’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.  
“Autism?” She said with disbelief. “But, Deanna, there hasn’t been a case of that in over a hundred and fifty years! We discovered long ago how to identify and successfully treat it.”  
“I know,” Agreed Deanna with a frustrated shake of her head. “But from the little I’ve seen and heard it makes me suspect it.”  
The Doctor shook her head as she thought, not wanting to believe, but gradually she began to make sense of the idea.  
“Well, I suppose she does exhibit some classic symptoms.” She remarked with care. “But what about her ability to function so normally? Could that be a learned response in someone with autism, albeit mild?”  
“I think so, yes.” Said Deanna. “Tell me, have you ever noticed the disconnection and inattention so indicative of autism?”  
Beverly tilted her head and shrugged.  
“Now that you mention it, yes, I have, but not so prevalent that I’d make an issue of it. Lots of people are inattentive and appear, on the surface at least, to be somewhat remote. I mean, you could look no further than Jean-Luc for remoteness, but we both know he’s only distancing himself to preserve his command persona. In private he’s fully attentive.”  
“Hmm, you may be right. As I said, it’s only a thought. I’ll know more when I’ve spoken to her again.”  
“More sessions?” Asked Beverly.  
“Oh, most certainly! Although...”  
“Yes?”  
“Getting her to comply might be a problem.” Admitted Deanna.  
“Why?” Asked Beverly.  
“Because I don’t want to order her into therapy, but judging by the amount of hostility she feels towards me at the moment, I might have to and that’s counterproductive.” Deanna sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I might just have to resort to guerrilla counselling.”  
Beverly snorted, a look of utter disbelief on her face.  
“Guerrilla counselling?” She said incredulously. “What the hell is that?”  
With a grimace, Deanna stood and bent double, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her forehead on her knees. In a somewhat muffled voice she said,  
“Basically, it’s ambush therapy.” She groaned softly as her hamstrings twanged. “I turn up completely unexpected and inveigle myself into conversation with the patient. Then, with as much stealth as I can muster, I try to steer the dialogue towards something that resembles a session.”  
Pulling down the corners of her mouth, Beverly tried not to show her distaste.  
“Sounds a little...”  
“Unprofessional?”  
“Well, yes.”  
“It is, but sometimes with recalcitrant patients, I have no choice.” A frustrated Deanna admitted. “Of course its effectiveness depends solely on the patient’s eventual goodwill. If there’s any real resistance, it doesn’t work.”  
“Hell of a way to do your job.” Remarked Beverly, still not happy with Deanna’s methods.  
“It is, I agree and I rarely, if ever, have to resort to it.”  
“Well, here’s hoping you won’t have to with Bower.” Declared Beverly.  
“Oh, I hear you, Beverly and I agree wholeheartedly!”  
They spent the next fifteen minutes completing their routine, then left. As Beverly walked briskly back to Jean-Luc’s quarters she mulled over what had been discussed.  
“Mild autism. Damn, could it be possible? Could someone in this day and age slip through the cracks and go undiagnosed?”  
She walked a bit further and shook her head.  
“And get through the Academy?” She had a lot to think about.

 

Jean-Luc had set the table and was at the replicator when Beverly returned. She offered a warm smile and kissed him as she breezed past on her way to the bathroom. Jean-Luc knew she would take a quick shower before dressing and joining him. He didn’t complete the order, but waited so breakfast would be hot.  
They were eating their croissants and sipping hot coffee when Beverly remarked,  
“You know that problem I told you about?”  
“Ah...the one about your staff member?” Jean-Luc said cautiously.  
“Yes.” Beverly smiled. “I’ve just had a very interesting chat with Deanna about the same person.”  
Careful to keep the conversation casual, Jean-Luc showed only mild interest.  
“Really?” He murmured. “And what did she have to say?”  
Sitting forward and propping her elbows on the table, Beverly held her mug in her fingers.  
“Well,” She began. “Deanna thinks the nurse might be suffering from mild autism.”  
Jean-Luc frowned as he struggled to find any reference of the condition in his mind. Eventually he shrugged.  
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”  
“Nor should you have.” Beverly snorted softly. “It’s a condition that’s been all but eradicated. We long ago learned how to detect and treat it. To my knowledge there hasn’t been a case for over a hundred and fifty years.”  
She sipped her coffee.   
“Oh, and by the way, autism in adults was called Asperger’s syndrome. Actually, the complete title is, Asperger’s Spectral Disorder.”  
Showing he was impressed, Jean-Luc offered a wide smile.  
“Indeed.” He said affably. “And you know about this how? If it’s been gone for so long, why would you be aware of it?”  
Tilting her head slightly, Beverly acknowledged his question.  
“It’s true, I wouldn’t normally be aware of something like that, but you’d be surprised how often references are made to old medical conditions in relation to existing ones. It’s sometimes very helpful to make comparisons. You’d be surprised just how much information there is floating about that concerns old and indeed ancient maladies.”  
“Hmm, I suppose I could say the same thing. I have access to old logs and mission reports going back a very long time and I have, often I suppose, delved into them when stumped for an answer.” He smiled. “Medical is no different it seems.”  
They sipped quietly for a short time before Jean-Luc asked softly,  
“Can the condition be treated?”  
Beverly took a deep breath and considered the question. She’d been thinking the same thing.  
“I’d have to do some research, but from what I can remember, the answer is no. But, in saying that, I should point out that people with mild Asperger’s can lead quite normal lives. In fact some sufferers exhibit extraordinary talents. Mathematical, artistic, their abilities are quite astonishing.” She grimaced.  
“Unfortunately the old term for these gifted individuals was ‘idiot savant’.”  
Jean-Luc sighed, dropped his head and shook it in dismay.   
“You’re right,” He said sadly. “That is unfortunate.”  
He lifted his head and gave Beverly a measured look. She knew he was concerned but was doing his best to keep the captain out of the conversation.  
“So, I suppose the question is...Can this woman carry out her duties? Is she fit to work, especially in a starship environment?” He asked carefully.  
Letting go of her mug with one hand, Beverly sat back and combed her fingers through her hair.  
“Yes, I think she is. Certainly, I will consult with Deanna about it, but I’m sure she’ll be able to continue.”  
“Very well,” Smiled Jean-Luc, then he sobered. “But be careful, Beverly.”  
“Oh, I will, you can be sure of that, but you should know, people with Asperger’s,” She held up her index finger to accentuate her next words, “Provided that’s what she suffers and I’m not completely convinced of that, not yet anyhow, are not dangerous. They may be remote and somewhat self-absorbed, but they pose no danger whatsoever.”  
Jean-Luc considered what she’d said then spoke carefully.  
“If she doesn’t have Asperger’s then you are still dealing with a woman who is either somehow upset about something...or is somewhat disturbed. Either way she should be watched.”  
Beverly nodded and smiled her understanding.  
“I know.”  
“In that case,” Said Jean-Luc kindly, I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”  
With breakfast over they stood and began to clear the table in preparation to leave for their shift.  
Beverly smiled and said softly,  
“I appreciate your support, Jean-Luc.”  
He said nothing but offered a warm smile. As they moved towards the doors, Beverly hesitated and half turned.  
“And will you tell the Captain something for me?”  
His eyes twinkled as he nodded.  
“Tell him, I appreciate him keeping out of it...for now.”  
“I’ll tell him.” Said an amused Jean-Luc, pleased that he’d handled it correctly.  
They left their quarters with a light step.

 

It had taken a good twenty-four hours before Meredith recovered fully. She’d gone straight to sickbay after the brittle session with Deanna and had only just managed to get through her shift. Fortunately the facility was quiet, affording her the opportunity to regain her equilibrium, but it wasn’t until she’d got through the shift, then had a decent sleep that she felt on an even keel again.  
Knowing she’d somehow piqued the counsellor’s interest was a burden she would rather not have, it was an awkward complication. Having finished her night shifts, she enjoyed the obligatory twenty-four hours off before reporting bright and early for the normal day shift. She was well aware Deanna would’ve reported the session to Beverly and it irritated her, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it, so she concentrated on keeping a low profile and doing her job.  
With the end-of-month reports due, Beverly spent the first part of the day ensconced in her office. She emerged just before lunch and startled Meredith by sidling up and watching her as she changed a dermoplast dressing on an ensign from engineering. When the task was completed, Meredith summoned a cold smile and sent the junior officer back to work.  
There was an awkward silence, then as Meredith turned to put her instruments back, Beverly said softly,  
“That was well done.”  
Halted, the lieutenant glanced up and tried to keep her expression neutral.  
“Thank you, Doctor.” She said quietly. When nothing more was said, she went to move off, but again Beverly stopped her.  
“Lieutenant...Meredith, I’m going to the lounge for lunch.” Beverly said. “Would you care to join me?”  
Pure, unadulterated joy surged through Meredith and, when she glanced again at her boss, her eyes were glowing.  
“Ah, actually...I think I would.” She managed to keep her tone even. “Thank you, Doctor Crusher.”  
Beverly smiled to cover her unease. If there was a problem with this woman, she had to find out what it was. She may not feel comfortable with her, but that was all right, one wasn’t expected to get on with everybody. With a vague wave towards her office, Beverly said,  
“I just have to do something. Wait here, I’ll be back in a minute.”  
“Yes, Doctor.”  
Once in her office, Beverly tapped her communicator.  
“Crusher to Picard.”  
She couldn’t help by smile as his distinctive voice responded.  
“Picard here, Doctor.”  
“Captain, I’m having lunch with a colleague today.”  
“Very well, Doctor. Picard out.”  
It was usual for the pair to lunch together. They’d been doing it for so long the crew barely noticed anymore. There were those, of course, who speculated about the nature of their relationship, and their actions certainly added credence to the rumours that circulated the lower decks, but since it was common knowledge the officers habitually lunched together it was hardly newsworthy. Having informed Jean-Luc of her plans, Beverly’s next call was to Deanna.  
“Troi here. Go ahead, Beverly.”  
“I’m having lunch with Lieutenant Bower. Are you interested in joining us?”  
Deanna’s interest was clear in her voice.  
“Well, it might be helpful. The lounge?”  
“Yes.”  
“See you there. Troi out.”  
Meredith appeared to be waiting patiently, but inside she was a tumult of nervousness. Beverly Crusher, her Beverly had invited her to lunch! When the object of her desires came out of her office, it was all Meredith could do to not shiver with anticipation. She fell into step with the taller red head and said nothing as Beverly chatted amiably on their way to the lounge.  
They’d been seated only a couple of minutes before Beverly remarked,  
“I do like this table, it affords such a lovely view, don’t you think?”  
Having been asked such a direct question made Meredith feel distinctly uncomfortable. To cover her apprehension she casually looked out of the viewports. She knew Beverly was watching her and she couldn’t help but swallow nervously. What Beverly said next didn’t help at all.  
“It’s all right, Lieutenant, you can relax.”  
She formed what she hoped would be a confident smile and began to turn her head back towards her boss, but the sight of Deanna approaching their table wiped it from her face. Beverly saw the quick change of expression and thought she knew what’d caused it. She looked over her shoulder and smiled as Deanna arrived at the table.  
“Counsellor!” Beverly exclaimed with well orchestrated surprise. “The Lieutenant and I were just about to order lunch. Have you eaten?”  
Deanna glanced at Meredith’s bowed head and frowned slightly. She sensed the intense emotions emanating from the woman and her struggle to rein them in. Anger and betrayal swirled around her making Deanna wonder who, exactly, they were aimed at. She dragged her eyes back to Beverly and summoned a smile.  
“No, Doctor, I haven’t.” She said quietly.  
“Then you must join us.” Said Beverly blandly, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious. The trouble with guerrilla counselling was that it is basically disingenuous and she was certain Meredith was well aware of what was happening. But, maintain the charade, Beverly snapped her fingers.  
“Oh, damn! I’ve forgotten something.” She grinned wanly. “I’ll be right back.”  
Having made her escape, Beverly retreated to the other side of the crowded room from where she could surreptitiously observe the pair. Deanna gritted her teeth at the inelegant and clumsy way they’d gone about setting Meredith up. She turned her thinned lips into a smile and said softly,  
“I must apologise, Meredith.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “It wasn’t very professional of us.”  
Having got control of herself, Meredith raised her eyes long enough to size Deanna up. She then lowered her gaze and shrugged.  
“It’s not the first time it’s happened to me, Counsellor.” She said quietly.  
“Perhaps not, but that doesn’t excuse our behaviour.” Said Deanna gently.  
There was an uncomfortable silence between them as Meredith sat in cold resignation and Deanna sorted through her tightly controlled emotions. Eventually it was Deanna who broke the impasse.  
“Well, now that we’re here, we might as well talk.” She said, trying to sound positive.  
Again Meredith only glanced at the Counsellor before returning her gaze to her lap.  
“About what?”  
“Well, why don’t you tell me what you’re feeling right now?” Asked Deanna. “Surely you must be angry.”  
The smile was barely seen with her head bowed.  
“You know precisely what I’m feeling, Counsellor. You don’t need me to tell you.”  
“That’s true,” Admitted Deanna. “But I think it would be helpful if you articulated your feelings.”  
“Helpful to whom, Counsellor. You, or me?”  
“Both of us, Meredith.” Deanna sighed and briefly closed her eyes. “As I entered the lounge, I felt quite strong emotions coming from you. Would you like to tell me about it?”  
Meredith didn’t respond so Deanna continued.  
“What you were feeling was directed at Doctor Crusher and it felt warm and quite lovely.” Deanna said gently, trying to draw a response from the Lieutenant. When she remained silent, Deanna tilted her head to see under Meredith’s brow.  
“It’s not unusual for people to be attracted to someone, Meredith.” Deanna said quietly. “And it’s not unusual for crewmembers to become infatuated with their commanding officers. It’s natural and normal, I’ve seen it often. It doesn’t mean you’re unique, Meredith, you’re certainly not the first, nor will you be the last to have these kinds of feelings.”  
Using a brief pause to gauge Meredith’s emotions, Deanna went on.  
“What you have to come to terms with, is that your feelings towards Doctor Crusher aren’t appropriate. For one, she doesn’t share your sexual orientation. And I can tell you, although I would ask you not to discuss it with anyone, Doctor Crusher is in a stable, long-term relationship with Captain Picard. So you see your feelings are misplaced. It would be better for everyone if you found someone else to...love.”  
Meredith had lost the ability to mute her emotions. Deanna’s softly spoken words had wounded her deeply and the counsellor was well aware of the effect her words were having. The Betazoid closed her eyes as she felt Meredith’s pain. It took several minutes before the nurse regained control. Somehow she stifled her agony and took a calming breath. Deanna opened her eyes and expected Meredith to show some kind of grudging acceptance. But the woman merely offered a cold smile and stood, coming to attention. She said nothing, just looked vacantly into the middle distance, her emotions under tight control.  
With a deep sigh, Deanna said quietly,  
“You may go, Lieutenant.”  
Giving a curt nod, Meredith stalked out of the lounge, but not before her step faltered when she saw Beverly. Their eyes met and Beverly softly gasped at what she saw. Then the moment passed and Meredith was gone. Shaken, Beverly made her way to the table and sat with an equally disturbed Deanna.  
“How did it go?” Asked a worried Doctor.  
“Not well.” Replied Deanna. “In fact I think our problem just got worse.”  
The waiter came to their table but neither of them had any appetite to eat. Beverly ordered a coffee, Deanna just shook her head.  
“Do you still think it’s Asperger’s?” Asked Beverly.  
“Asperger’s?” Said a confused Deanna.  
Offering an apologetic smile, Beverly clarified.  
“Autism in adults.”  
“Oh, of course.” She nodded. “I don’t know.” Deanna said with frustration. “What do you think?”  
Beverly shrugged.  
“I’m not sure either.” She confessed. “I’m going to have to do a hell of a lot more research before I can make that kind of diagnosis.”  
“Agreed. But there’s still something...” Deanna sighed and plexed for a moment or two. “You know she’s in love with you.”  
Beverly inclined her head and raised her eyebrows.  
“I thought as much.” She said sadly. “You know, I’ve had plenty of staff harbour inappropriate feelings for me over the years, I mean, it goes with the job, but never with the intensity I sense from Meredith Bower.”  
“I know what you mean.” Agreed the counsellor. “From what I sense of her emotions they’re somehow...” She gestured with an upward lift of her hands. “Amplified. It’s as if she feels everything with more strength and clarity, but struggles to express herself adequately. I can’t help but wonder...”  
“What?” asked an intrigued Doctor.  
Deanna sighed.  
“Well, how does she cope? You know what strong emotion feels like, what it makes you want to do, yet she manages to lead a normal life beset, but seemingly not hampered, by a tumult of blaring emotions.”  
“So she is abnormal?”  
“That’s a judgement I find hard to make. What is normal when it comes to our emotions? Just because she feels with such intensity doesn’t make her abnormal. Lots of people feel their passions deeply.”  
“But it is unusual.” Beverly said carefully.  
“Yes, it is.” Admitted Deanna. “I’ve never come across anything like this before, at least not in a human.”  
They considered the situation, then Beverly said softly,  
“But there’s still that underlining thing, isn’t there.”  
With a frustrated snort, Deanna nodded.  
“Yes, there is and I’m no closer to discovering what it is than I was before. What I can say is whatever it is, it’s deep inside her, Beverly and I think it’s probably mixed up with her feelings towards you.”  
Beverly levelled her gaze at her best friend.  
“So, do I have a problem?” She asked flatly.  
Returning her gaze, Deanna sighed.  
“I don’t know.”  
Nodding her acceptance of the situation, Beverly said fatalistically,  
“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see.”  
“And keep our fingers crossed.” A sympathetic counsellor quipped.  
They stood together and left the lounge. Once out in the corridor, Beverly shook her head and said wryly,  
“Oh, and no more guerrilla counselling.”  
That made Deanna chuckle.  
“Definitely not.” There followed a moment’s silence before Deanna said with embarrassment,  
“God, what a disaster.”  
Beverly grimaced.  
“I know and it’s my damned fault! I’m sorry Dee, I’m not usually so ham-fisted.”  
With a soft snort, Deanna placed a commiserating hand on Beverly’s forearm.  
“It’s not all your fault, Beverly.” She said kindly. “I could’ve easily refused the invitation.” She turned to her friend and said softly,  
“In fact you may have had more success if you’d just had a simple, quiet lunch with the woman.”  
“Maybe,” Said Beverly evenly. “But hindsight is twenty-twenty vision, Dee. I’d rather think we’ll get another chance. Who knows, Meredith herself might seek help.”  
Nodding, Deanna still had her doubts.  
“That’s if she recognises she has a problem.”  
“True. Time will tell, I suppose.” Beverly agreed.  
They parted at the turbolift. Beverly wasn’t looking forward to seeing Meredith in sickbay.

 

As she’d anticipated, there was a great deal of tension and awkwardness between the two women. Twice Beverly tried to engage Meredith in conversation, but received nothing but curt monosyllables in return. She barely avoided being cited for insubordination. It was obvious the lieutenant was very angry with her. But Beverly was still her commanding officer and she would not tolerate sullen behaviour among her staff, no matter what the cause.  
So, bearing in mind she was partly at fault and to lessen the unpalatable atmosphere, Beverly asked Meredith to assist lieutenant commander Ogawa in the obstetric room. They had three females of various species in labour. If anything could lift one’s mood, it was the birth of a new baby. Unfortunately, Beverly had no idea that such fundamental feelings weren’t part of Meredith’s makeup. Yes, she did feel her emotions with extraordinary potency, but the wonder of new life, indeed maternity in general didn’t affect her in any way. However, she did find some solace in the work as it was intense and rewarding in its own way. And it kept her away from Beverly while she regained her equilibrium. By shift’s end she’d forgiven Beverly, but not Deanna. No, every time she thought about what had happened, anger swelled up making her jaw clench and her throat constrict. The only thing that was going to assuage that anger was sex.  
When she’d reached her quarters, she wasted no time in summoning Elsie Greensale. As before, Elsie complained bitterly, but was powerless to deny Meredith.  
She arrived at Meredith’s quarters just as aroused as Meredith was. The sex was intense and prolonged, leaving them both sated and relaxed. Meredith even accepted caresses and cuddling from Elsie afterwards and, more extraordinary, allowed Elsie to stay.  
With her eyes mere slits and sleep threatening, Meredith was unprepared for Elsie’s murmured words.  
“I could so easily love you, Meredith.”  
Her eyes snapping open, the lieutenant stared at her partner.  
“What?” She asked angrily, irritated the languid mood was shattered.  
“You heard me.” Declared Elsie. “What we have is wonderful. I’ve never had anyone quite like you, Meredith.”  
Taken aback, Meredith frowned.  
“You can’t be serious!” She exclaimed. “Why ruin it by talking about love?”  
With a soft snort, Elsie gently kissed Meredith’s lips.  
“I know how you feel about Doctor Crusher, Meredith, don’t worry, I’m not asking you to give her up, but can’t you find a place in your heart for me too?”  
Rolling to her back, Meredith stared up at the ceiling.  
“Well, that’s different.” She thought. “It might be interesting.” Curiosity made Meredith turn to study her partner. By the woman’s intense gaze, Meredith correctly identified deep affection in her eyes.   
“Hmm,” Thought Meredith. “How clichéd. Still, it could prove amusing.”  
Out loud she said softly,  
“I suppose I could, but I don’t think I want any romance. How about we keep things as they are, but I make more time for you?”  
It wasn’t what Elsie wanted, but it was more than she’d hoped for. Giving an enthusiastic nod, she kissed Meredith again. By the intensity of the kiss, Meredith knew Elsie wanted more sex. She happily obliged.  
Upon waking, Meredith was astonished to find Elsie still in her bed. It took a few confused seconds before she remembered she’d given the woman permission to stay. What had she been thinking? Obviously, her encounter with the counsellor the previous day was still having its effect. There could be no other reason. Then she paused and rethought. Elsie. She all but confessed to loving her. Meredith lifted her head and peered in the darkness, just making out Elsie’s profile as her head rested on her pillow.   
“How do I feel about her?” Wondered Meredith. She sighed and shook her head.  
“I don’t know!” Now really confused, Meredith slid out of bed and paced around the room.  
“What the hell is going on?” She stopped and stared at her sleeping lover. Shaking her head again, Meredith strode to the bathroom, muttering darkly,  
“Get a grip!”  
The possibility that she might be developing feelings for Elsie wasn’t something she was prepared to contemplate. So, reverting to form, she simply ignored the entire situation. She had more important things to think about.

 

As usual Beverly worked beyond the end of her shift, but she wasn’t really concentrating on her work. Not that she was treating any patients; she would’ve most certainly devoted all her attention if that were the case. No, it was the end-of-month reports that she laboured over and not because they were particularly onerous, but that her mind just wasn’t on the job.  
Finally, irritated by her distracting thoughts, Beverly tabbed off the monitor and stacked the PADDs into an untidy pile and moved them to one side of her desk. Then without a backwards glance, she shoved her chair back, stood and left sickbay walking briskly to her quarters.  
She was alone for only ten minutes or so before Jean-Luc arrived. They went through their ritual greeting, both deriving pleasure and a form of solace from it.  
Throughout the rest of the evening, Jean-Luc was aware Beverly was distracted. He bided his time, knowing she would tell him what was bothering her in her own time.  
By the time they were lying in bed, he’d come to the conclusion she was not yet ready but, just as he began to drift to sleep, her soft voice brought him awake.  
“Can we talk?” She whispered.  
“Of course.”  
Her deep sigh told Jean-Luc whatever it was, she was deeply troubled.  
“I think my problem has become significantly more complicated.” She confessed.  
“Your nurse?” He asked softly, his deep voice rumbling through his chest.  
Beverly turned onto her side, entwined their legs and placed her hand palm down on his chest, her fingers idly playing with his soft, curling hair.  
“Yes.”  
“Tell me.”  
Again Beverly sighed.  
“She’s in love with me.” He heard the worry and sadness in those whispered words and he frowned.  
“Well, I can understand how that would make you feel uncomfortable, but surely you’ve experienced that sort of thing before?” He said carefully. “It’s quite common for junior officers to become infatuated with their commanding officers.”  
“Of course I am, Jean-Luc, but there are two very distinct differences here. One; she’s not a junior officer, she’s a full Lieutenant and she’s twenty-nine years old. And two; she isn’t infatuated with me, she’s in love with me.”  
“I see.” Jean-Luc said quietly. “That does make a difference. Have you talked to her?”  
Embarrassed, Beverly muttered, “Not exactly.”  
Turning his head, Jean-Luc said, “Lights, ten percent.” In the now dimly lit room, he turned and propped himself up on one elbow. Looking down at Beverly, her hair spread forwards hiding her profile. Using his fingers, he gently pushed the curtain of red hair back behind her ear and then lifted her chin so she faced him.  
“What does that mean?” He asked with quiet forbearance.  
Beverly chewed her lower lip, knowing he was going to be displeased.  
“Well, I sort of set her up.” Beverly said sheepishly. “I involved Deanna in some guerrilla counselling.”  
“What?” A now annoyed Jean-Luc said sharply. “And what, exactly, is ‘guerrilla counselling’?”  
With a wave of her hand Beverly hoped was as dismissive as she meant it to be, she said blithely,  
“Oh, it’s nothing you need concern yourself about, Jean-Luc. All you need to know is that it was a dismal failure. While Deanna did unearth the nurse’s feelings towards me, she wasn’t able to discover what else might be the cause of our original concerns.”  
Closing his eyes briefly, Jean-Luc took a steadying breath.  
“In what capacity are you telling me this? And for that matter just whom do you want to respond?”  
Offering a half smile, Beverly said quietly,  
“I’m telling you as my friend and I expect, at least I hope, you’ll respond in kind.”  
“Hmm.” He was obviously upset. “What about your suspicion she may be suffering Asperger’s syndrome?” he asked.  
“The jury’s still out on that. Neither Deanna nor I have enough evidence to make a definitive diagnosis.”  
“But it is a possibility.”  
“Yes, it remains within the realms of possibility. We certainly can’t discount the idea.”  
“Then is it normal for people with that disorder to have inappropriate feelings for others?” Jean-Luc asked, feeling his way with his questions.  
Beverly shrugged.  
“To be honest, I’m not sure; I don’t know enough about it yet.” She admitted.  
“I see.” He sighed.  
There was an uncomfortable silence while Jean-Luc wrestled with the problem. He let out a plosive breath through puffed cheeks and shook his head.  
“And you’re not telling me this as the Captain?” He asked with a note of exasperation.  
“No.” Beverly said emphatically.  
“Well,” He said resignedly. “In that case, I have no option but to leave it in your hands. But...” He held up one finger. “If this gets any worse I’ll expect you to refer the matter to Will and if he thinks it warrants it, I will have no other choice but to become involved in an official capacity.”  
Relieved, Beverly said demurely,  
“I understand. Thank you, Jean-Luc.”  
They settled back down and Jean-Luc called for the lights to be extinguished. In the gentle silence Beverly whispered,  
“It’s a huge comfort...being able to talk to you about it.”  
He draped his arm over her and placed a soft kiss at the base of her ear. Nothing else was said as they found sleep.

A month passed without incident. Elsie Greensale became a frequent visitor to Meredith’s quarters and the lieutenant found herself actually looking forward to the time they spent together. It took a while, but gradually Meredith came to realise she did indeed harbour affectionate feelings for her lover. And as astonishing as it was, Meredith discovered that their lovemaking, already satisfying, became even more intimate. They were adventurous and enjoyed new challenges and Meredith was very surprised to find that, despite her thinking she knew everything there was to know about sex, there were deliciously new things to learn.  
Together, they explored the realms of erotic, modern sexual literature, introduced by Elsie and made real what they’d read. It was a glorious time for Meredith, but even though she was fascinated and utterly satisfied, she still yearned for Beverly. How this could be so, eluded her. Elsie, herself enraptured, knew with terrible certainty that although some small part of Meredith was hers, the greater part belonged to someone else. And it hurt. No matter how involved Meredith was, if she looked into her lover’s eyes she could see it. Even during the most intimate of times Meredith Bower wasn’t completely there. And Elsie knew exactly who it was that held her lover’s heart. Beverly Crusher.  
The lieutenant’s work was routine and Beverly was relieved to find her fears eased as Meredith seemed to focus her attention elsewhere, other than her. That was until the evening Beverly had decided to work extra late.  
Sickbay was quiet and Beverly was taking advantage of the slack time by catching up on her reports. She was fully absorbed in her work and failed to realised someone was standing at the open door of her office. She startled, softly gasped and jerked her head up. Smiling enigmatically and with an indescribable look in her eyes, Meredith Bower’s muted shadow fell across Beverly’s desk.  
Rattled and filled with momentary panic, Beverly’s hand rose by its own volition to her comm. badge. She did not, however, activate it. Instead, Beverly sat back and adopted a professional mien, while she gathered her scattered wits.  
“Yes, Lieutenant?” She said, pleased her voice sounded so steady.  
It was then that Beverly saw that the woman had actually been leaning against the door’s edge, her arms folded and one foot crossed over the other in a very nonchalant pose. How long she’d been there, Beverly couldn’t guess.  
The almost-there smile grew and Beverly’s sense of decorum was insulted.  
In a crisp, no-nonsense tone, Beverly said,  
“It’s customary for subordinates to show respect for their commanding officers.”  
Moving with relaxed, almost insolent confidence, Meredith uncrossed her feet, unfolded her arms and slowly straightened up. She did not come to attention. Affronted, Beverly’s lips thinned, but before she could sharply rebuke the woman, Meredith spoke.  
“I think, Doctor, you work way too hard.” Her voice was soft and surprisingly deep, although Beverly couldn’t detect any trace of hidden menace.  
“My work schedule isn’t your concern, Lieutenant.” Beverly said, her expression stern. She was dismayed when Meredith merely smiled her not-quite-there smile. Behind her, the main body of sickbay was dim, the lights having been muted for the evening shift. Only if a patient arrived would the lights be ordered to full intensity. With no light of any strength behind her, Meredith appeared even more spectral, unnerving the Doctor. Taking full advantage of her boss’s disquiet, Meredith stepped into the office and said casually,  
“You should get other staff to take more of the work. That way you’d have more...time...for the Captain.”  
Outraged, Beverly hissed,  
“How dare you!”  
The woman shrugged.  
“I’m just saying, you work too hard, Doctor.”  
“Get out!”  
Offering another nonchalant shrug, Meredith turned and sauntered out of Beverly’s office. The Doctor fisted her hands on the desktop so hard her fingernails left impressions on her palms. Lowering her head, Beverly calmed herself. She then stood and followed Meredith into sickbay itself.  
“Lieutenant.” Beverly said with quiet authority.  
The woman turned, her eerie smile in place.  
“Yes, Doctor?” Her tone was completely guileless.  
“I find your attitude unacceptable.” Beverly said in clipped tones. “You will apologise to me, then you will report to Commander Riker first thing tomorrow morning for disciplinary action.”  
Meredith gaped, a picture of innocence.  
“Me? What have I done?”  
“You know perfectly well. Don’t try the innocent routine with me.”  
Stepping closer to Beverly, Meredith appeared stricken. She held up her hands as if pleading.  
“Doctor Crusher...please...I think you misunderstand. I simply wanted to offer my help in lessening your work load, that’s all. Everybody knows you work way too hard.”  
In the face of such contrition, Beverly began to doubt herself. Was she misjudging the woman? Had she misinterpreted her actions? Was her knowledge about the woman’s feelings towards her colouring her judgement? Beverly had always dealt with her staff in a fair and compassionate manner. It would be grossly unfair to cause a reprimand to appear on her permanent record over an unfortunate misunderstanding. Taking a deep breath, Beverly summoned a tight smile.  
“I see.” She said evenly. “Perhaps I was too hasty.” She held up one finger. “However, I would expect you to adopt a more professional attitude when addressing a senior officer.”  
Meredith came to attention, the epitome of military correctness.  
“Yes, Sir!” She said crisply.  
Beverly half turned, hesitated and said with quiet intensity,  
“One more thing, Lieutenant.” Beverly’s eyes glistened in the subdued lighting. “Don’t ever presume to comment on my relationship with the Captain again. It’s quite simply none of your business. Understand?”  
Meekly, Meredith bowed her head.  
“Yes, Doctor Crusher, of course.”  
The Lieutenant watched in silent amusement as Beverly stalked back to her office. When Meredith turned to resume her duties, she was grinning from ear to ear.  
“Phase one, complete.” She murmured.  
Jean-Luc could tell the moment he saw her that Beverly was upset and it was with some annoyance that he thought he knew why.  
Foregoing their usual greeting, Beverly stalked to the drinks cabinet, took Jean-Luc’s bottle of scotch and wrenched the lid off. She then slopped a hefty measure into a cut-glass tumbler before tilting her head back and drinking it in one gulp. As Jean-Luc watched, Beverly lowered her hand, closed her eyes and grimaced before suddenly coughing violently, her hand patting her chest.  
Drawing near, Jean-Luc said softly and with some amusement,  
“You might have done better to sip it slowly.”  
Beverly opened her eyes and he saw they were teary. Her mouth gaped and she shook her head, softly gasping.  
“My God, Jean-Luc. How can you drink this stuff?” She wheezed.  
He took the tumbler and placed it on the cabinet, saying mildly,  
“You know perfectly well why, Beverly, and if I remember correctly, you’ve drunk your fair share of scotch in the past.”  
Offering a grunt, Beverly left her lover and went to the sofa where she sat heavily, rubbing her eyes with forefinger and thumb. Jean-Luc followed and took his seat in his favourite chair opposite. Beverly breathed in slowly and let the breath out in a plosive burst.  
“All right, so I’ve drunk a bit of scotch in my youth. At least it was something decent. That...” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder directed at the bottle. “...is rotgut.”  
Well accustomed to her acerbic tongue, especially when she was unsettled about something, Jean-Luc remained unruffled. In his deep, mellifluous voice he said patiently,  
“What you call rotgut is actually a seventy-year-old authentic single malt scotch, distilled in a village in Scotland and hideously difficult to obtain.”  
“Yeah, well...whatever.”  
Sitting forward , placing his elbows on his thighs and lacing his fingers loosely together, Jean-Luc waited a minute or two before saying quietly,  
“Tell me.”  
Beverly’s reaction was to close her eyes and flap one hand. She thinned her lips and frowned. Eventually she cracked her eyes open and sighed and by that Jean-Luc knew she had calmed.  
“I just had a disturbing run-in with that nurse.”  
Jean-Luc bowed his head and pursed his lips, frowning deeply.  
“I see.” He said more curtly than he’d meant to.  
Beverly chewed her lower lip before running her fingers through her hair.  
“I know, you don’t have to say it.” She said with a shake of her head.  
“What happened?” Jean-Luc had modulated his tone somewhat.  
Beverly looked at her lover for the first time since entering their shared quarters.  
“That’s just it, Jean-Luc. Nothing much happened.”  
Rising from his chair, Jean-Luc joined Beverly on the sofa. He turned and placed one hand on her thigh.  
“It must’ve been something, Beverly to have upset you so. Tell me...please.”  
As she gazed into his dark green eyes she once again thanked the Gods for their relationship. Being able to talk to him about her troubles was such a comfort; however there was something she had to establish before she could unburden herself.  
“Am I talking to Jean-Luc, or the Captain?” She asked softly.  
She could tell by his unreadable expression that he was unwilling to hear what she had to say as her friend. He made his position clear.  
“Beverly, this has gone on long enough, don’t you think? If something’s occurred to upset you then I think it should be dealt with officially.” He said softly, but firmly.

“I understand your position, Jean-Luc, but I’ve already dealt with it as I saw fit.” Beverly said quietly. “If you act on it now, you’ll undermine my authority.”  
“I see.” He said, obviously displeased. He then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All right, under those circumstances, I’ll put aside my misgivings and trust your judgement.”  
Offering a small smile, Beverly said softly,  
“Thank you.”  
“So, what happened?” He asked.  
Beverly spent a few minutes telling him what had occurred and he was left as unsettled as Beverly, but for different reasons.  
“Her behaviour is unacceptable, Beverly, regardless of what illness she may suffer or her feelings for you, however inappropriate they may be.” He said, shaking his head. “What she did was a blatant example of insubordination if not outright threatening conduct.”  
Beverly took a deep breath and rubbed her brow.  
“But was it really?” She asked unsure. “All she did was express an opinion that I work too hard. Yes, she may have displayed less than required acknowledgement of my seniority, but to be honest I don’t run sickbay with all that much formality.”  
With an exasperated shake of her head, Beverly said, “I don’t know, Jean-Luc. She may have been genuinely concerned for me and was simply unsophisticated in how she let me know.”  
“Still...” He said, unconvinced.  
“And there’s another thing, Jean-Luc.” Beverly said, her face a study in conflicting emotions. “She volunteered to work well past her shift’s end to do an inventory that my staff have been grumbling about. No one wanted to do it and I knew I was going to have to order it done. I was spared that by her offer.”  
Jean-Luc gave that some consideration and what he said was nothing more than Beverly expected.  
“Perhaps she was attempting to ingratiate herself.”  
“Maybe, but really it’s nothing I’m not accustomed to from her. She may well have issues, but her work is always exemplary.” Beverly said. “And honestly, can I fault her for caring? Isn’t that exactly what I want from my staff? So she was naive in her approach; that could be nothing more than lacking social skills. Who knows how she felt at the time?”  
Tilting his head, Jean-Luc lifted his eyebrows.  
“You’re being very understanding, Beverly.” He said quietly. “I’m not so sure I’d be so accommodating.”  
With a lopsided smile, Beverly said softly,  
“Put yourself in her shoes, Jean-Luc. She’s in love with me. How do you think a woman who may be quite a novice where it comes to expressing such deep feelings and added to that the situation of being subordinate in rank, go about making those feelings known? I think I have to be somewhat tolerant, don’t you?”  
When he didn’t respond immediately, Beverly covered his hand with one of hers.  
“You’re the subject of most of the hero-worship that goes on aboard this ship, how do you handle it?”  
He sighed and shook his head.  
“For a very long time I was embarrassed and dismayed, but I remembered how I’d felt about one of my instructors at the Academy and realised it was normal and natural and something that disappeared with maturity. That we have a constant influx of newly posted youngsters is a source of concern to me, but as you know I keep a certain distance from the lower decks, I think it’s something most Captains do. The job requires an amount of detachment, you know that.”  
He took a thoughtful breath. “But, Beverly, we’re not talking about hero-worship, are we. This woman is in love with you and has acted inappropriately. It matters not what motivated her, there is a standard I expect from every officer serving on this ship and she failed to meet that standard. The fact you choose to run your department with less formality is up to you I suppose and I acknowledge the nature of your work does lend itself to a more casual approach, but nevertheless, discipline must endure.”  
Beverly knew he was right, but still resisted.  
“I don’t have a problem with what you’ve said, you’re right, of course, but I still don’t want to report the incident formally to Will, or for that matter, to you.”  
Jean-Luc looked into Beverly’s eyes and pursed his lips.  
“Very well, I accept that, but what about you? Are you going to let this go? Can you maintain discipline in your department if you do?”  
With so many, many years of friendship between them, Beverly didn’t take offence at his strongly worded questions. He was still responding as her friend, but the Captain was nearby.  
“I’ll talk to her.” She said as a way to placate both men. Jean-Luc raised his eyebrows and hitched his head to one side.  
“All right.” He said cautiously. “But, Beverly...”  
She held up her hand.  
“You don’t need to say it, Jean-Luc. I know. If she does anything else, I’ll put her on report. She’s used up her quotient of goodwill from me.”  
No smile appeared on Jean-Luc’s face, but his eyes showed his understanding and acceptance. He rose and stepped around her legs on the way to the replicator. As he passed, Beverly murmured,  
“It’s Cardhu.”  
“So you do remember.” He replied with gentle amusement.  
“Yes, and I’m surprised you can still get it and that it still makes me breathless when I drink it.”  
He was at the replicator and smiled to himself.  
“I told you, it’s to be sipped, not guzzled.” He said quietly. “Such a rare, wonderfully mellow scotch should be savoured.” With their order ready, he took the dish from the device, saying as he did so,  
“Much like you. Now, if you’re hungry, dinner is served.”

 

Meredith and Elsie lay in the tangled sheets, sweat drying rapidly.  
“Wow!” Exclaimed Elsie wondrously as she sprawled carelessly. “What the hell was that about?”  
Frowning in lazy irritation, Meredith closed her eyes and let her breath out of her nostrils.  
“I was feeling tense.” She said tersely.  
“And now?” Asked Elsie, her eyes closed.  
“I’m not tense any more.”  
“Obviously.” Elsie said drily. “But what I’m actually asking is why were you so tense?”  
With an irritated sigh, Meredith frowned.  
“What does it matter?” She said through clenched teeth. “Just relax.”  
There followed several moments of silence and Meredith began to think that Elsie had drifted off, but her soft whisper made Meredith grimace.  
“When are you going to give up?” Despite the fact that Elsie was whispering, her pain was quite plain to hear. Meredith chose to ignore it.  
“What the hell are you on about?” She hissed.  
“You know perfectly well.”  
“No I don’t!” Meredith was growing angry. She decided if her lover wouldn’t stop annoying her, she would insist she leave.  
“Yes, you do.”  
“That does it!” Meredith rolled out of the bed and glared at Elsie. She pointed to the bedroom door. “Get out.”  
Elsie surprised herself by refusing.  
“No. Not until we’ve talked.” She said with remarkable calmness.  
Meredith closed her eyes and shook her head “I don’t want to talk, I want to sleep. Now either shut up and stay, or get out.”  
Elsie smiled sadly and shrugged. “Kicking me out won’t change anything, Meredith. Beverly Crusher isn’t going to give you so much as the time of day. The sooner you realise that the better.”  
Her mouth gaping, Meredith seethed. “How dare you? My feelings towards Doctor Crusher are none of your damned business!”  
“I dare because I love you.” Elsie said softly. “And I want to protect you from getting your feelings hurt.”  
The gentle declaration caught Meredith unawares. Something wasn’t right. The words filtered through and left an indelible mark upon her heart. What was going on here? Why didn’t she simply tell Elsie to fuck off? Why did it seem important to consider her feelings?  
Seeing the indecision in Meredith’s face, Elsie mistook it for something entirely different.  
“Really, Meredith. What can Crusher offer you that I can’t?” She asked enticingly. “Surely you can’t say we don’t have potent chemistry? For God’s sake, take this evening for instance. I mean, wow!”  
Meredith nodded absently. “Yeah...wow.” She muttered. “So, you love me.”  
“Yes.”  
“Riight.” She said slowly. “When did that happen?”  
“Oh, Meredith,” Elsie gently admonished. “Don’t play the innocent with me, I know you too well.”  
When Meredith didn’t say anything further, Elsie sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, very well, if you insist.” She said dramatically. “I’ve been in love with you for some time now. Ever since you started to see more of me.” She tilted her head and frowned.”You love me, don’t you?”  
Meredith’s eyes narrowed. “What?” She said sharply. Then in a softer voice, “Oh, yeah, of course.”  
“So you’ll give up that foolish idea about Crusher?” Elsie asked slyly. Meredith gave her a calculating look and smiled coldly.  
“Actually, Elsie, I have a new idea.” Her voice was tempting.  
“Really?” asked an intrigued Elsie. “Tell me.”  
“Not yet. Soon.”  
Meredith grinned to herself. “Beverly and Elsie.” She mused. “What a tasty combination.”  
A whole new tableau opened up. Meredith got back into bed and allowed Elsie to snuggle up to her. The lieutenant was awake long after her lover went to sleep and her smile never left her face.

 

Beverly left their quarters the next morning with a self-satisfied grin on her face. They had made love in the shower. It had been urgent and very passionate leaving both of them wanting more and she knew that the coming evening should prove very satisfying.  
Usually totally devoted to her work, Beverly had discovered that since entering into her relationship with Jean-Luc, she had found herself daydreaming every now and then at inappropriate times. She had snorted and shaken her head, both amused and annoyed that she should entertain such adolescent love sick romanticism at her age. Still, she couldn’t deny it was comforting in its own way.  
The smile was still on her face, though not quite so self-satisfied, more sensual as she replayed images of her morning’s activities in her mind. And so, when her staff looked up at her arrival in sickbay they grinned knowingly and cast sly looks at each other. Meredith alone refused to indulge in what she thought as puerile behaviour. Indeed, rather than offer anything but a slight nod of acknowledgement, she followed Beverly’s progress through the facility with brooding, hooded dark eyes.  
Once ensconced in her office, Beverly gave herself a mental shake and banished her carnal thoughts. She worked diligently for an hour before leaving her inner sanctum and devoting some time checking on the few patients and chatting with her staff. Meredith noted with growing anger and dismay that her boss seemed to ignore her. Just when the lieutenant was about to absent herself rather than endure any more humiliation, Beverly wandered over to her and said mildly,  
“Would you join me in my office as soon as your duties permit, Lieutenant?”  
The Doctor had already turned away before Meredith recovered enough to reply shakily,  
“Yes, Sir.”  
As she returned to her work, Meredith was in emotional turmoil. Warring for equal dominance, random thoughts coursed through her mind. “What does she want? Will she declare her feelings for me?” She mused happily. But then, “What if she shuns me...what if that bastard, Picard has poisoned her mind against me?” Fear and anger swirled darkly. More thoughts intruded; each one more desperate than the last. It was in a daze that she realised she’d completed her tasks and was now free to report to her commanding officer.  
Not knowing what to expect, yet hoping for the best but fearing the worst, Meredith walked in with what she hoped was seen as calm professionalism. She stood before Beverly’s desk, displaying relaxed respect.  
“You asked to see me, Doctor?” Meredith said in a softly expressed friendliness.  
When Beverly looked up, Meredith was alarmed to see her boss’s eyes were not displaying their usual warm glow. Instead they were guarded and slightly cold. It was the first time Meredith had seen Beverly in full Command mode.  
“Yes, Lieutenant.” Beverly said crisply. Meredith noted with growing consternation that Beverly had not, as she was wont to do, offered her to sit. “I wish to discuss what occurred last night. Although, at the time I was willing to let the matter pass with minimal fuss, on reflection I think it prudent that I make myself clear.”  
“What the hell’s going on?” Thought an increasingly angry Meredith. “She’s been put up to this by the bloody Captain.” She realised bitterly. “Well then, we’ll just have to see about that.”  
If Beverly saw the hardening of Meredith’s expression, she didn’t react. Remaining stiffly formal in her posture, Beverly clasped her hands on the desktop and set her jaw.  
“While it isn’t uncommon for junior crewmembers to harbour intense feelings for their superiors,” Beverly said with only a trace of sympathy. “It is generally understood by all that such feelings should be kept private and most certainly not allowed to interfere in the duties that must be performed with a clear head and with appropriate focus. What happened last night was not only a clear breach of protocol, but also a betrayal of the trust I’d placed in you. By your words and actions you displayed insubordination and a worrying attempt at unsavoury innuendo that I find absolutely unacceptable.  
“Although I have chosen not to make this official in that I’m not going to put you on report, I want you to be aware that, as of now, I will be taking notice of your performance, not only in your work, but how you interact with your fellow crewmates and your superiors.” She stared implacably into Meredith’s eyes, clearly showing her steely determination. “Be warned, Lieutenant, if anything remotely like what happened last night occurs again, you will be looking at a transfer off this ship with a reprimand in your permanent record. Do I make myself clear?”  
A sullen Meredith was smart enough to keep any trace of her feelings from her expression and her voice, though it cost her dearly.  
“Yes, Sir.” She managed, relieved her voice sounded so steady. She expected a curt dismissal, but Beverly surprised her.  
“Is there anything you wish to say, Lieutenant?” Some of Beverly’s true nature was evident in the softly spoken words. The Doctor disliked having to speak harshly to anyone, especially a member of her staff and if not for the discussion she’d had with her lover the previous night, she would’ve let the matter go entirely. Added to her wish to show some compassion was her knowledge of Meredith’s love for her. It made the situation more complicated than a mere breach of discipline and Beverly wanted to demonstrate that she was sympathetic to Meredith’s feelings by her willingness to hear Meredith’s reaction to her informal reprimand.   
The lieutenant was put on the spot, having to suddenly decide if she dared voice what was in her heart. Weighing both the danger of rejection and further sanctions against the other consequence of alienating the woman she loved, Meredith was in an unenviable situation. Ever attuned to other people and always aware of their feelings, Beverly correctly identified the source of Meredith’s dilemma. Sitting back and relaxing her posture, Beverly said gently,  
“Would you like to put aside rank for a moment?”  
It was a generous offer and one Meredith couldn’t pass up.  
“Yes, sir.” She said with a relieved sigh.  
“Then by all means, speak freely.” Beverly said with a soft smile, gesturing for Meredith to be seated.  
Sinking gratefully into the seat in front of the desk, Meredith took a few moments to gather her thoughts, all the while under Beverly gentle scrutiny. When she lifted her head, Beverly saw the unmistakable swirl of deep emotion in her eyes.  
“The thing is, I...that is I have been...” Frustrated by her sudden inability to articulate her love, Meredith snorted angrily and pushed her index finger and thumb into her eyes. As she sat and fumed, Beverly said quietly,  
“I’m aware of your feelings for me, Meredith and I’m flattered, of course, but you must know, while I understand you’re entitled to your feelings and probably unable to control them, it is inappropriate for you to act on them.”  
Taking a deep breath and quashing the humiliation she felt, Meredith lowered her hand and gave Beverly a frank look that only caused to unnerve her and make her feel alarmed.  
“If you’re so sure about my feelings for you, then why don’t you admit your feelings for me?”  
It was said with such conviction and quiet intent that Beverly was momentarily taken aback.  
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” She said carefully, wishing to draw more out of the lieutenant.  
“Oh, come now, Doctor. I know you want me, it’s obvious.”  
“How is it obvious?”  
“I’ve seen the way you look at me. God, you might as well have made a ship-wide announcement.” The snide, vaguely triumphant tone shocked Beverly.  
As Beverly’s open, warm expression fled, Meredith suddenly knew, with a horrible sinking feeling that she’d gone too far. Now faced with a clearly angry and affronted commanding officer, Meredith scrambled to save what little remained of her dignity. Immediately holding up her hands and closing her eyes, Meredith bowed her head and said earnestly,  
“Please, you must forgive me, Doctor. What I just said...it didn’t come out like I meant it to.”  
Her contrition seemed genuine and Beverly had to admit the situation as it was might be cause for an inexperienced person to behave inappropriately. Though not in the least naive and with many years experience in a position of authority, Beverly’s nature still had her looking for the best in those around her. She took a thoughtful breath and decided to allow the lieutenant to explain herself.  
“I see. Well, just what was it you meant to say?” She said, permitting just a hint of annoyance to show.  
Offering a timid smile, Meredith tried to give the impression of embarrassed clumsiness.   
“Okay, it’s true I’m in love with you.” She said just loud enough to be heard. She blushed and seemed to struggle to go on. “And I accept you probably don’t feel the same way.” Her hands twisted restlessly on the desktop. “But like you said, I can’t help the way I feel and I do understand how inappropriate it is to allow my feelings to interfere in my work, but...” She trickled to a halt and stared at her hands. Beverly frowned and briefly, out of Meredith’s sight, closed her eyes.  
“It’s not just how it affects your work, Meredith.” Beverly said carefully. “It’s also how it affects me.”  
At that, Meredith lifted her head and felt terrible at seeing the anguish on Beverly’s face.  
“It’s common knowledge that I’m in a relationship with the Captain and though it’s absolutely none of your business, or anyone else’s for that matter, it makes it all the more damaging for you to express your feelings for me.” She said softly. “Having said that, however, I certainly don’t expect you to hide from me because of what you feel. This department functions best when I know I can trust each and every one of my staff, you must be aware of the level of informality I allow. But that only goes so far. There is a standard of discipline expected of the crew on this ship which is above what would be considered normal. This is the Enterprise, Meredith, the flagship of the fleet. She is staffed by only the best, from the Captain right down to the lowliest Ensign and it runs smoothly because everyone knows what’s expected of them.”  
Beverly regarded Meredith carefully, gauging what effect, if any, her words were having. She seemed to be absorbing what she said with thoughtful nods.  
“Any wrinkle, any deviation from that standard simply cannot be tolerated. The effect of allowing inappropriate behaviour to go unchecked would be catastrophic. If one crewmember got away with it, others would soon follow and the chain of command would be irrevocably broken. Our work, out here in deep space, is dangerous enough without having to cope with a deterioration in discipline. I know that the very fact we work in an enclosed environment exacerbates certain problems, problems that are bound to occur, but we have mechanisms in place to deal with them. Humans have been exploring space for a long time now, and we’re well aware of the difficulties that can arise. Interaction between the crew, be it platonic, romantic or sexual are to be expected and in some cases, encouraged. Starfleet’s regulations on conduct allow for it. But...it is implicitly understood by all that regardless of how one might feel for another, those feelings cannot...must not be at the expense of the standards expected by the Captain.”

“Isn’t that a little hypocritical?” Meredith asked softly, making sure her expression was one of respect.  
“How do you mean?”  
“Well, if it’s the Captain’s standards we’re upholding and if expressing one’s feelings might upset the status quo, how is it that he’s allowed himself the luxury of having a relationship with you?”  
Although angered by her impertinence, Beverly had to admit it was a fair question.  
“There are some things you need to know, Lieutenant.” Meredith noted she was now being addressed by her rank and wondered if they were still speaking freely. “Again, it’s none of your business, but to clarify and address your question, I’ll be frank.”   
Pulling her pursed lips to one side, Beverly frowned and sorted through her thoughts, picking the best way to express herself.  
“The Captain and I have known each other for a very long time. Also, we have served together for over a decade. We didn’t enter into our current relationship lightly; we gave it a lot of thought weighing up the consequences, not just for ourselves, but how it would impact on the crew and the running of the ship. We discussed it with the senior staff and, having explored all aspects, decided it would be all right. Had we found any impediment, we wouldn’t have entered into the relationship, the smooth running of the ship and our mutual respect and friendship was too important to us.”  
A wistful expression passed her face.  
“We walk a fine line, Lieutenant, balanced between the professional and the private and I would be the last to say it’s easy, it’s not. But because we’ve had a lot of experience in our respective positions we understand when we need to ignore our relationship and do our duty unencumbered.  
“What you have done is quite different. Not only have you allowed your feelings to cloud your judgement, you have made an erroneous assumption regarding my feelings towards you. To make it clear, the only feelings I have for you are those of a concerned superior officer for a junior under my command. Yes, I am more involved in the lives of my staff, but I’ve found that such a relationship makes for a more productive and efficient workplace.”  
Meredith’s heart sank and it showed on her face. Beverly tilted her head and said softly,  
“I’m sorry, Meredith.”  
Summoning a brave smile, Meredith blinked away the moisture in her eyes.  
“That’s okay, Doctor, I think I understand.”  
Wishing to escape, Meredith got to her feet, but knew she couldn’t leave without being dismissed. Looking up, Beverly said gently, “Will you be all right?”  
“Yes...” Meredith said cautiously. “But...”  
“But?”  
Taking a deep breath, Meredith decided she had nothing to lose. “I won’t stop feeling the way I do.”  
“Just as long as you don’t let it get you into trouble.”   
“Yes, Sir.”  
“Dismissed.”  
Watching Meredith leave, a thoughtful Beverly wondered if that was the end of it. Somehow she doubted it. Beneath what Meredith was willing to show, there was something else, tacit and not-quite discernible, but there, nonetheless. But without any tangible evidence one way or another, Beverly was forced to accept only that which she was able to deal with. If the undertone of something else was destined to cause her any more breaches of discipline, Beverly had no option but to wait and see.

 

Meredith returned to her work, deeply troubled. It wasn’t just the reprimand, however informal and kindly given, it was her declaration of love, forced from her and clumsily delivered. Also, she had cause to wonder just why the object of her desire and love would lie so blatantly. Meredith recognised Beverly’s attempt to assert her authority, that she understood easily, but it seemed to her that the unequivocal denial of Beverly’s true feelings had another, deeper meaning. She was in no doubt that Beverly’s lover, Captain Picard, had been responsible for at least part of what happened, certainly Beverly was doing her best to protect him, but why would she lie?  
Somehow, in the space of a few uncomfortable minutes, Beverly had managed to take the initiative away from Meredith, tipping the balance of power in their fragile, unspoken relationship in her favour. This irked Meredith, she was always the one in control. But, as she gave it more thought, allowed the new dynamic to settle in her mind, she realised, happily so, that it might be quite novel to allow her new partner to take the dominant position...at least for a while and at Meredith’s discretion. She smiled to herself as she conjured up situations where Beverly would think she was the one in control when the truth was Meredith’s hands manipulated the strings.  
It had taken over four hours of intense thought until Meredith had arrived at something she could feel confident about. The meeting in the office, while excruciatingly embarrassing, was helpful. Beverly was now aware that even in the face of her transparent denial of her feelings, Meredith had maintained her dignity and found the courage to reaffirm her love. Although Meredith still wasn’t convinced as to Beverly’s true motives in lying, she felt sure her boss was obligated either through affection or by direct order to give the impression that her lover hadn’t obfuscated the situation. Of course she knew better. It was disturbing to accept the relationship Beverly had with the captain, but Meredith had already decided she would willingly share Beverly’s affections. But of course that left the one puzzling question. Why did she lie? It didn’t enter Meredith’s mind that Beverly might’ve been telling the truth, that would’ve been soul destroying, it would’ve shattered everything Meredith believed of herself. Elsie could’ve told her that there was probably never going to be a time when Meredith could, or would, accept rejection. Once she set her sights on someone, she wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d conquered them and if that meant waiting and scheming just a little longer, Meredith was certain beyond all doubt, that Beverly would be hers.  
And so, thus bolstered and once again sublimely confident, Meredith completed her shift and hurried back to her quarters. With any luck, Elsie would be there. Meredith was feeling very tense and she smiled coldly to herself.   
“Lucky Elsie.” She muttered grimly. “I get to choose the toys.”

 

The perfectly formed tear that slid across the soft skin caught the ambient light of the room and within its depths, a prism gleamed softly. Because the tear wasn’t crossing the skin of her dream lover, Meredith ignored it. Elsie blinked and the tear swelled with the added moisture of another tear, the prism distorting.  
“It hurts, Meredith.” She whispered, her face set in a grimace.  
“So? You can always expect a little pain.” Meredith said dismissively. “Besides, are you complaining?”  
“No, but it’s more than a little pain.”  
Meredith’s eyes were closed as she basked in the afterglow of their very energetic and aggressive sex. As far as she was concerned, they were both sated and all she wanted to do was sleep. Elsie’s continuing whining was really beginning to annoy.  
“It shouldn’t hurt so much, Meredith.” More tears were flowing and they coloured Elsie’s voice.  
“Jesus!” Meredith spat. “You’d ruin a wet dream! What the hell are you whingeing about?”  
She sat up, glaring down at Elsie. The trembling woman placed her hands flat on her lower stomach.  
“Inside, Meredith, it hurts inside.”  
Grabbing the sheet, Meredith wrenched it off the bed and glared hotly at Meredith’s genitals. What she saw made her eyes widen and caused her to swallow convulsively.  
“Oh, fuck.” She muttered.  
Rising up on her elbows, Elsie looked down her body and saw blood staining the sheets. Her mouth formed a perfect O before she panicked.  
“What have you done?” She said incredulously. “I’m bleeding!”  
“I can see that!” Said a shaken Meredith.   
“Well, what are you going to do about it?”  
Meredith was outraged. “Me?” She spat. “Why do I have to be the one to do anything about it?”  
Elsie gaped at her lover, not believing she could be so callous.  
“Because you caused it!” She yelled.  
“I don’t remember you complaining. In fact I remember you begging for more!” Meredith hissed.  
“Do you really think that matters now? For God’s sake, call sickbay!”  
Exiting the bed, Meredith barred her teeth and glared.  
“Fuck you, Elsie! I’m not going to be the butt of dirty little gossip mongers just because you’re bleeding a little bit!”  
Elsie’s face changed from outright anger to sly calculation.  
“You don’t have much choice...darling.” She cooed. “If you don’t summon help, I’ll leak far more salacious stories than this little gem.”  
Meredith knew by the insufferably smug look that Elsie was ready and willing to carry out her threat. Boxed into a corner, Meredith was forced to do as she was told.  
It was unfortunate for all concerned that Beverly was still on duty when the call came through. Ever the professional, she didn’t ask questions, she simply said, as she left sickbay with a med kit slung over her shoulder, “On my way!”  
As soon as Meredith had recognised Beverly’s voice she became very subdued. Elsie tried to draw her out, but other than to put a robe on, Meredith said and did nothing until Beverly arrived. She breezed into the bedroom, blue coat flapping.  
“Right! What’s the problem?” She said briskly.  
Elsie, seeing that Meredith wasn’t going to have any input, shyly pushed the sheet down and, in her embarrassment, stared stonily up at the ceiling.  
Kneeling on the bed, Beverly took the small, cylindrical probe from its recessed position on top of the tricorder and swept it back and forth across Elsie’s lower stomach and between her parted legs as she studied the information that scrolled across the tricorder’s screen.  
“There is a deep vaginal tear, lacerations across the cervix and a small perforation of the uterus.” Years of experience kept any expression other than professional detachment from her face and her voice was crisp and clear. She tapped her comm. badge. “Crusher to Sickbay. I need a gravi-bed brought to my location immediately.”  
“Aye, Doctor.”  
While they waited, Beverly softened her expression and asked gently,  
“What did you use?”  
Elsie stubbornly refused to look at Beverly. She lifted one hand and pointed an accusing finger at Meredith. “It was one of her...things.”  
When Beverly turned her attention to Meredith, it was all the lieutenant could to do stay in the room. The urge to flee was almost overwhelming, humiliation and anger making her mute.  
“Meredith? Enquired Beverly softly. When Meredith refused to respond, Beverly barked, “Lieutenant!”  
Snapping her head around, Meredith glared defiantly at the woman she loved. The Doctor understood the situation was a difficult one, but she needed information. Meredith’s feelings were irrelevant in the face of Elsie’s injuries.  
“Would you please show me what was used?”   
Silently, Meredith stood and went to the bedside, where she bent down and picked up an enormous dildo that had hard, sharp protuberances along its thick length. Her eyes were bright with anger as she silently handed it to Beverly.  
The red head examined the toy, forcing her eyebrows to remain level and her face impassive. She said softly, “This is a little...extreme, isn’t it?”  
Meredith knew she couldn’t maintain her silence when asked a direct question by a superior.  
“It’s not as big as some.” She said sullenly.  
“Perhaps not,” agreed Beverly. “But these...” She indicted the dildo, “are supposed to be used judiciously. They are not intended to cause harm.”  
Elsie didn’t like seeing her lover so...humiliated. She said carefully,  
“It was a mutual thing, Doctor. I didn’t give Meredith any cause to think I wasn’t...enjoying myself.”  
“I see.” Said Beverly. “Well I wouldn’t normally make any comment on what you choose to do in the privacy of your quarters, especially if what occurs is by mutual consent, but when such activities involve me as a doctor, particularly if it brings a patient to sickbay, then I am duty bound to counsel you as a health professional. My official stance is that I am obliged to order both of you to undergo education in the safe use of sexual implements. However, I’m not so naive that I think you’re not perfectly well aware of exactly what you should be doing with something like this.” She held up the dildo.   
Elsie summoned a weak smile.  
“We just got a bit carried away.” She blushed.  
“Yes, I can see how that might happen.” Beverly said kindly.   
Just then the medics arrived with the gravi-bed. Beverly stood and, as Elsie was transferred from the bed onto the glider, she said quietly, “I don’t think anything will be gained by making a fuss about this. I do have to enter it into the log, but there’s no need for anyone else to know about it.”  
Elsie smiled up at Beverly, obviously relived. The Doctor looked at Meredith expectantly as Elsie was taken from the quarters. “Coming?” Beverly asked. Meredith schooled her features and nodded.  
“I’ll just get dressed.” She said quietly, now under control.  
“Fine, I’ll see you in Sickbay.”  
Meredith watched as Beverly hurried to catch up with the small group by now out in the corridor.  
“Fuck!” Muttered Meredith darkly. “What a cock-up.”

 

The soft strains of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade played gently in the background as Jean-Luc tried to concentrate on his book. He’d been in his quarters for over two hours and, having showered and dressed only in his silk robe, sat in his chair resisting the urge to fidget. All day, since his intense encounter with Beverly in the shower, he’d been involved in a running battle with his mind to quell the arousing images that kept encroaching as he attempted to work.  
Now, his shift over, he was free to allow his mind to go where it may and that meant straight back to the delightful twenty minutes they’d shared.  
Aroused and semi-erect he glanced yet again at the doors, wondering in frustration whether he should call Beverly to see what was delaying her.  
His eyes briefly closed with relief as he heard the sibilant hiss of the doors opening. Setting his book on the arm of the chair and ordering the music off, he rose elegantly but momentarily paused. The lights in their quarters had been dimmed, only a spotlight over his chair provided a pool of bright light. Backlit by the light spilling in from outside, Beverly was caught in profile and Jean-Luc was taken by how classically stunning she was. They hurried towards each other stopping so close they were almost touching.  
“Hello, Beverly.” Jean-Luc’s voice was very deep and husky, unmistakably sensual.  
Her eyes hooded and in shadow, Beverly’s breathy, “Hello, Jean-Luc.” Told him all he needed to know. They met in a heated kiss, Beverly’s hands quickly undoing the tie to his robe.  
While she teased him fully erect, he divested her of most of her uniform. They made love on the floor. Again it was urgent and deeply passionate and when it was over they still wanted more, but they knew they’d have to wait. Jean-Luc was quite capable of having sex two or three times in a night, but he required time to recover. While they lay on the floor, not yet ready to move, Jean-Luc’s hand slid down the plane of Beverly’s stomach, his fingers dallying in the russet curls of her pubis. He said nothing but Beverly understood his silent question.  
“No,” She whispered. “I can wait.”  
“You’re sure?” He rumbled.  
“Yes. It’ll be worth it.”  
“Hmm, you can be certain of that.” The blatant masculinity he exuded almost had Beverly changing her mind. For a man as reserved and tightly controlled as he, his capacity for raw passion and sexuality was a source of never-ending delight for Beverly. That he’d proven to be such a good lover didn’t surprise her, nor did her discovery that his libido matched hers, but the depths of his ability to express his passion took her breath away both figuratively and literally.  
Early in the relationship she’d decided to challenge him sexually, wondering just how far he would go, but no matter what she suggested he was more than willing to try and so far, hadn’t failed.  
Offering a soft groan, Jean-Luc got to his feet and assisted Beverly. While she went to the bathroom, he shrugged into his robe and ordered their evening meal, bringing it to the coffee table. When Beverly joined him he saw her look of surprise.  
“I thought a more casual meal would be appropriate.” He smiled.  
“We haven’t done this before.” Beverly said with gentle amusement. “I thought you always ate at the dinner table.”  
He only glanced up as he picked up Beverly’s bowl and the chopsticks, offering them to her. Nothing more was said for a while as they ate, then Jean-Luc said around a mouthful,  
“Actually, I used to eat most of my evening meals here or at my desk. There didn’t seem to be much point in sitting at the dining table.”  
“Hmph. And I suppose it was usually sandwiches.” Beverly said, chewing.  
“Not always,” Said an offended Jean-Luc. “Sometimes I had a salad too.”  
“Oh well, a salad! That makes all the difference.”  
There was no malice in her voice, just gentle sarcasm. Again there was a silence before, having finished his meal, Jean-Luc put his plate on the table and sat back, crossing his legs and carefully making sure his robe was suitably closed. Such a seemingly prim gesture having just had intense sex on the floor made Beverly shake her head in disbelief. Jean-Luc ignored the gesture and said quietly,  
“Everything changed when you moved in.” There was so much that hadn’t been said in that comment, Beverly gave him a measured look and asked softly,  
“Mostly for the better, I hope.”  
He smiled. “Oh yes, most certainly. Not only am I living better, but I’m immeasurably happy.”  
“Even though you have to share your bathroom space?” Although she smiled as she said it, there was an edge of mild confrontation to the question.  
He snorted softly. It was a running battle between them. In the mornings, when Jean-Luc wanted to shave was when Beverly wanted the bathroom mirror too. It had led to an interesting conflict, not serious or even disruptive, but indicative of their personalities. In almost every other instance, they worked out and accommodated each other’s habits and needs, but in this one, seemingly innocuous situation their stubbornness held firm. As petty as they both knew it to be, neither would back down and so every morning they jostled, mostly playfully, for the greatest use of the mirror.  
“Admit it, Beverly, you just don’t want to give up.” Jean-Luc said mildly, a small mischievous smile evident.  
“Maybe,” She conceded, her blue eyes twinkling. “But neither do you.”  
His smile grew and the moment passed. Each was aware, of course, that their reluctance to give in was merely an attempt to show the other that they wanted to keep a little of their independence and a reminder of their past lives as single people. Both of them knew that eventually they would find a way around the problem, just as they had with everything else, but for now it was simply an ongoing game.  
Beverly adopted Jean-Luc’s pose, she now dressed in nothing but her robe too. She leaned back, rested her head, closed her eyes and sighed.  
“I was so damned tense.” She said softly. “All day all I could think about was what we did in the shower this morning and I was so looking forward to coming home to you.”  
“Then why were you so late?” He tried to not sound aggrieved, but it came out that way anyway.  
Again Beverly sighed and Jean-Luc could see her frown. “That nurse.” Her voice showed her frustration and irritation. Jean-Luc’s head snapped up, all trace of relaxed ease forgotten.  
“I don’t believe this!” He barked. “Are you telling me that woman has stepped out of line again?”  
His tone made Beverly lift her head and open her eyes.  
“Calm down, it’s not what you think.” She said, trying to placate him.  
“Well what is it then?” He demanded, not mollified in the least. “Have you spoken with her yet?”  
Sitting up, Beverly rubbed her forehead. “Yes, I have and I think it went well...”  
“But?”  
Beverly let out a long breath through her nose. “I’m still...I don’t know, Jean-Luc. She’s...different.”  
“Different? How?”  
“It’s so difficult to describe.” Beverly said helplessly. “All I can tell you is that I sense something...something...different about her.”  
Trying to understand, Jean-Luc asked evenly,  
“What does Troi say?”  
Pulling up her lower lip, Beverly shrugged. “I’ve not spoken to her about it recently, not since the ghastly attempt at guerrilla counselling.”  
Jean-Luc closed his eyes and shook his head.  
“Beverly, if this woman is continuing to display what is now looking like a pattern of unacceptable behaviour, then something must be done! You know that.”  
“She hasn’t done anything wrong!” Beverly insisted.  
“Then what kept you tonight?”  
“I can’t go into details, Jean-Luc, it’s a medical matter, but I can tell you that, despite her protestations of love for me, she has a partner, at least a sexual partner.”  
“I see.” Jean-Luc frowned and bowed his head. “How then does this impact on you? From the outside, it seems to have become more complicated. Did she say anything about her partner to you?”  
Again pulling her lower lip up, Beverly slowly shook her head.  
“No, not a word. Until I found myself in her quarters this evening, I had no idea.”  
“None?” A surprised Jean-Luc asked. “I would’ve thought the ship’s grapevine would’ve provided you with all the gruesome details.”  
Jean-Luc was still very uncomfortable with the ship’s crew discussing their private life as if it was the most interesting topic they could think of. The trouble was, that was exactly what they thought.  
“Nup. Either they’ve been exceptionally discreet, or it’s been going on so long it’s no longer noteworthy.”  
“Humph! So there’s hope for us then?” he said sarcastically.  
“Oh, come on, Jean-Luc. The crew have been gossiping about you and me for years. You’re just upset that there’s finally some truth to the rumours and you want to hide it.” Beverly was tiring of hearing his complaints about this.  
“Well, do you blame me?” He snapped. “It wouldn’t be so bad if what was being said was somewhere near the truth. My God, have you heard what they’re saying?”  
Offering a sympathetic smile, Beverly nodded.  
“Yes, and of course I’m appalled, but the more strenuously we deny it, the more fuel they have to perpetuate their fantasies.”  
Calmer, Jean-Luc shook his head. “It’s not our relationship being speculated about which bothers me, it’s the sexual deviancy we’re being accused of. How on Earth do they think of these things? Isn’t the fact of our relationship enough for them? Do they have to...embroider it?”  
“The command staff, in particular the Captain are always going to be the focus of the most...imaginative gossip, Jean-Luc, you know that. In fact, it’s your reputation that causes most of it. The lower decks see you as a God-like figure so the mere hint that you’re only human titillates them and makes them fell more powerful.”  
“It’s still...” he sighed. “...tawdry.” Shaking his head, he let the matter go. “So, what about the nurse? What are you going to do?”  
With a sigh, Beverly pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.  
“I’m not sure there’s anything I can do...or even if I could...should I?”  
“It is a tricky situation, to be sure.” Jean-Luc conceded. “Wait and see?”  
Nodding, Beverly summoned a smile.  
“I don’t see what else I can do. I’ve told her I’m going to be paying more attention to her work...it’s up to her, I guess.”  
“As long as she toes the line.” Jean-Luc muttered.  
“Oh, yes, she knows any more unacceptable behaviour and she’s out.” Beverly said decisively.  
His eyebrows risen, Jean-Luc asked carefully,  
“Dismissed from your staff?”  
“No,” Beverly shook her head, her voice flat. “From the ship.”  
“You take it that seriously?” Jean-Luc’s voice had dropped to a low growl.  
“Yes. If she can’t work within the relaxed atmosphere of sickbay, there’s no way she’d cope with any of the more strictly run departments. There’d be no option but to insist she seek a transfer.”  
They sat in silence for a few minutes, each contemplating the situation. Eventually Jean-Luc gauged the moment was right. Rising, he held out his hand.  
“Enough.” He said gently. Then in a deliberately provocative tone, said, “We have unfinished business.”  
Tilting her head, Beverly accepted his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet.  
“Now there’s a wonderful thought. As it happens, I feel very tense again.” She said saucily.  
“Really?” he said with sensual sloth. ‘Well, I have just the thing for that.”  
“Thing?” She giggled coquettishly. “How quaint.”  
Nothing more was said as they disappeared into the bedroom.

 

If left to her own devices, Meredith would’ve returned to her quarters alone to get the sleep she so looked forward to, but, under the circumstances and with Elsie’s not-so-subtle hints ringing in her ears, she was forced to invite Elsie back to her quarters to recuperate.  
Having had a coffee in strained silence, both women retired to bed, Meredith immediately turning her back to her partner, closing her eyes and willing herself to sleep. However, Elsie had other ideas.  
“Well, that was...embarrassing.” She whispered. Meredith chose to ignore her, hoping that her icy silence would encourage Elsie to shut up and go to sleep. Unfortunately, that’s wasn’t going to happen any time soon.  
“I thought Crusher handled it well, though. She could have been a real bitch about it. Can you imagine what would’ve been said about you and me having to front up to education sessions? I mean...God....how to safely use a dildo?”  
Keeping her eyes closed, Meredith said scornfully, “Aren’t you tired? You’re supposed to be resting.”  
Elsie’s theatrical huff made Meredith grit her teeth.  
“You know damned well I’m not the least bit tired!” Elsie hissed. “For God’s sake, I’ve just had a fucking probe shoved up my twat. That’d be enough to keep me awake for a month!”  
“I would’ve thought you’d enjoy it.” Meredith muttered nastily. “After all, it was just another toy.”  
“You bitch!” Snapped Elsie. “You’re just jealous it wasn’t you doing the probing! I bet you were wishing it was Crusher on the bed with your hands on the probe!”  
Rolling over, Meredith speared Elsie with a poisonous, dangerous glare.  
“Shut up, Elsie.”  
“Or what? Jesus, Meredith, just who do you think you are? Some kind of fucking martyr? When are you going to get it into your head...Crusher is out of your reach. Not only is she a confirmed hetero, she fucking the bloody Captain for Christssakes! In fact, from what I hear, their tastes border on the extreme. I thought I was...you know...relaxed about the games people play, but some of the things I’ve heard about them...Jesus, it makes you and me look like prudes.”  
Now incensed and with absolutely no hope of sleep, Meredith rose up and knelt, glaring furiously down at the oblivious Elsie.  
“Shut your fucking mouth!” She said threateningly. “I can’t believe you’d even consider listening to such utter bullshit! Do you honestly think Picard and Crusher would indulge in such...infantile behaviour? Don’t you think they...especially Picard...would want to preserve their carefully constructed images of exemplary officers? My God, if they carried on as you suggest they’d lose all credibility, not only in the eyes of the rank-and-file, but the senior staff.”  
Wincing, Elsie slowly sat up.  
“I don’t see how what they do in the privacy of their quarters has any bearing on how the crew perceives them.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s not as if there’s any law against it.”  
Meredith rolled her eyes. “You’re such a fucking dimwit. Of course there’s nothing wrong with a healthy and interesting sex life, but you yourself admitted how aghast you were at the thought of the most senior officer and one of his senior staff indulging in what some Neanderthal prudes might consider...deviant behaviour.” Meredith shook her head. “Face it, Elsie; you’re as guilty as all the others of a double standard. You declare their right to do as they wish, and in the same breath condemn them. Just who are you to stand in judgement?”  
Giving Meredith a sullen, venomous glare, Elsie shrugged.  
“When you put it like that, I guess you have a point, but I’m surprised you’re taking the moral high ground, Meredith. I know just how ripped up you are at the mere thought of your precious Beverly’s twat being stuffed full with Picard’s cock.” She said spitefully.  
“You’ve got a foul mouth, you slut.” Meredith’s tone was bitter. “Why can’t you just accept it? Why do you have to let your jealously rule your tongue?”  
Although Elsie felt a twinge of triumph at having got so far under Meredith’s carefully maintained armour, she nonetheless felt terrible guilt that she hurt her so much. By way of apology, Elsie lifted her hand and gently caressed Meredith’s breast whilst saying softly,  
“You know why, lover. I can’t stand the thought of sharing you, not even when it’s only in my mind. I love you...what we have...it’s...it’s fucking fabulous.”  
Her gentle fingers began to tease Meredith’s nipple into hardness.  
“It’s your fault, Meredith.” She murmured silkily. “I’ve never had a lover like you before; I’ve never been so...thoroughly and gloriously fucked before. Do you blame me for wanting you all to myself?”  
Meredith’s eyes had drifted closed as the gentle caresses slowly aroused her, but now she opened her eyes and stared at Elsie, primal hunger and intense heat swirling in their depths. Fear and delicious anticipation slithered through Elsie as she lay down and looked up at Meredith, offering herself. Having wakened Meredith’s ferocious sexuality, she was now compelled to offer no resistance, to show nothing but meek acceptance. She didn’t mind, for by swallowing her pride and dignity she would experience the best sex she’d ever had. After all, nothing that was worth it came without a price and this was a price she was happy to pay, as many times as Meredith wanted.

 

Deanna Troi was careful to make her arrival in sickbay as routine as possible. She was well aware Meredith would be watching her intently as soon as she entered, so she made a show of walking straight to Beverly’s office, an unruffled smile on her face, answering the warm greetings with a flash of her obsidian eyes.  
Just as Deanna knew she would, Meredith tracked her progress through the facility with sharp interest, keeping in the background where she could watch, unobserved. It wasn’t unusual for Deanna to visit sickbay, especially given her deep friendship with Beverly and as ship’s counsellor, therefore part of the medical staff, there were times when she had to liaise with the CMO, but Meredith still viewed her presence with suspicion.   
Beverly looked up from her monitor, her face splitting into a wide, warm grin.  
“Deanna!” She exclaimed happily. “What brings you down here?”  
Deanna’s expression, hidden from the staff, said it all. As if you didn’t know!  
Taking the seat in front of the desk, Deanna casually crossed her legs and sat back. To the outside observer, it seemed like a simple meeting between two department heads of the same rank, the familiarity obvious in the way they behaved in each other’s company.  
Keeping her smile in place for the benefit of anyone watching, Beverly asked quietly,  
“So, what do you think?”  
During their early-morning exercise together, Beverly had outlined everything that had occurred between her and Meredith, asking Deanna for her opinion. Being the professional she was, Deanna wouldn’t be drawn into forming a hasty diagnosis, nor did Beverly expect her to. Instead, Deanna chose to delay offering any thoughts until she had had more time to think about it and do some research. Although the only pertinent resources she had were Meredith’s profile and the two unsatisfactory counselling sessions, Deanna hoped she could glean some new information that would help her best friend.  
“It’s difficult to say.” She sighed, glad that her back was to the door, thus obscuring her from the staff...and Meredith. “There’s so little to go on.”  
Careful to keep her face showing nothing but moderate interest, Beverly said,  
“What about everything I’ve told you? Surely that must ring some alarm bells?”  
“Yes, her behaviour has been...unusual, but I can’t really act on hearsay, not directly, anyway.” She said gently, knowing Beverly wasn’t going to be happy with what she heard.  
“So what can be done?”  
“She needs counselling.”  
Beverly had to concentrate to keep her expression neutral.  
“Obviously, but how? Ordering her will only antagonise her and that’ll get us nowhere.”  
“I could always make an oblique approach.” Danna said thoughtfully.  
“Not guerrilla counselling!” Beverly almost hissed. “It was a disaster the first time and I have no doubt it will be so again if you try it a second time.”  
Deanna’s eyes hardened a little and she gave a surreptitious shake of her head.  
“No, not guerrilla counselling. I have something else in mind.” She said patiently.  
“What?” A now intrigued Beverly asked.  
“I thought I might talk to her partner, Elsie Greensale.”  
Deanna could tell by the worried look on Beverly’s face that she wasn’t keen on that idea. To Deanna’s silent enquiry, Beverly said reluctantly, “There was an...incident last night that involved both of them.”  
“Are they no longer a couple?”  
“I think they are, although I’m not certain about that...” She stopped to think and came to a decision. “Seeing how this impacts directly on Lieutenant Bower’s treatment, I feel obliged to inform you of what occurred.”  
Beverly explained about the injuries sustained by Elsie and the circumstances in which she came by them. Deanna’s face remained impassive; there was little that shocked her.  
“Hmm, that’s quite helpful, actually.” She mused. “It fits with the impression I get of a confident woman, very comfortable with her sexuality and quite forceful in her pursuit of gratification. I’ve heard one or two things about her and although I certainly wouldn’t put any credence in gossip...” Beverly winced and Deanna felt the wave of discomfort wash over her. “I have to concede there may well be a grain of truth to at least some of it. Nothing I would act on, of course, but enough to pique my interest.”  
Clasping her hands on the desktop, Beverly tilted her head and asked,  
“So you think you might get Bower on side by appealing to Greensale?”  
Deanna shrugged. “It’s worth a try. If their relationship is deep enough, I’m sure Greensale would be happy to volunteer to help me and, should I be successful in gaining her assistance, Bower might listen to her lover where she would dismiss me out of hand.”  
“Well, better you than me!” Beverly declared succinctly. She then sighed and showed the first sign of stress by rubbing her brow. “I wish there was some other way, Deanna. This whole situation is so...draining. Jean-Luc’s upset about it and threatening to make my dissatisfaction his official business. It’s really only because of our relationship that he’s keeping out of it, but he can be patient only so long. Ultimately this affects him too. It’s his standards that are being lowered by Bower’s behaviour.”  
“More fine balancing?” Deanna said sympathetically.  
Offering a lopsided smile, Beverly snorted softly.  
“We’d make a great high-wire act.” Her smile faded. “I really don’t know how he does it, Dee. It must be so hard for him to put aside what he feels is his duty, in fact his years and years of training to allow me to handle what is fundamentally a serious breach of discipline.”  
“He loves you a great deal.” There was conviction in Deanna’s softly spoken words.  
“Yes,” Smiled Beverly sadly. “But I can only hope his love for me doesn’t compromise his captaincy.”  
“It won’t, Beverly.” Deanna said confidently. “You know that. He’s too good a Captain to allow that to happen. He might be reluctant to hurt you, but when it comes down to it, he’ll do his duty every time.”  
Before Beverly could respond, Deanna said firmly, “What we have to do is make sure he’s never put in that position, at least not where it concerns Meredith Bower.”  
This time, Beverly smile was a warm one. “Agreed.”  
Deanna got to her feet and Beverly could see she was already plotting her course.   
“Elsie Greensale?” She asked softly.  
“Yes, I’ll drop by now.”  
“Good luck.”  
“I hope I won’t need it.”  
Just as she’d done when Deanna had arrived, Meredith now watched as she left. Although she had no idea what had been discussed in her boss’s office, she couldn’t help but feel it somehow involved her. It wasn’t paranoia, more it was a well-defined sense of self-preservation.  
“I’ll have to keep an eye on you.” Thought a wary Meredith. Deanna had no idea just how closely Meredith would watch her.

 

Lieutenant jg Elise Greensale was so engrossed in her work she failed to notice when Deanna appeared at her shoulder. Content, for the time being, to simply watch Elsie, Deanna held up a hand and offered a smile and a small shake of her head when the department head saw her and made to join her. Acknowledging both her superior rank and her silent message with a nod and a smile, he returned his attention to his console. It wasn’t until Elsie’s focus shifted to the LCARS display to her left that she was finally made aware of Deanna’s presence.  
Letting out a small yelp of surprise, Elsie scrambled to her feet, her mind immediately going into overdrive as she tried to think why she merited an unsolicited visit from the ship’s counsellor.  
Like Beverly, Deanna had an enviable reputation among the crew so, at least on some level, Elsie knew she wasn’t in any sort of trouble, but what eventually settled into her mind was that the only reason Deanna would have to take the unusual step of coming to her workplace could only be because of the previous night’s embarrassing trip to sickbay.  
She paled a little and began to lightly perspire when her fears were confirmed.  
“Hello, Lieutenant, I hope I’m not disturbing you?” Deanna said lightly, deliberately keeping a respectful distance between them. “There is something I’d like to discuss with you, in private.”  
Now wary, Elsie struggled to keep her voice even.  
“Of course, Counsellor. Um...I think we could use Lieutenant Drezz’s office.”  
Making sure her smile was a warm one, Deanna said kindly,  
“That would be fine.”  
Having obtained permission from her boss, Elsie led Deanna into the small office and an awkward situation was resolved when, instead of sitting behind the desk, Deanna perched on the front of it and invited Elsie to sit in one of the two remaining seats. Weaving her fingers together, Deanna was quick to set the mood.  
“I want to say at the outset, Lieutenant, this is an informal meeting, in fact it could be considered unprofessional of me to request it as my reason isn’t to discuss anything about you, per se, but rather your partner, Lieutenant Bower.”  
Elsie’s surprise was clearly evident. “Meredith? You want to talk to me about Meredith?” She said, surprise giving way to caution.  
“Yes.” Deanna said patiently. “It has come to my attention that your partner has been...troubled lately and whatever it is that’s bothering her has begun to interfere in her relations with her superiors.”  
Deanna saw by Elsie’s expression that she knew exactly what she was referring to. “Please, Elsie, I don’t want to make you feel you’re breaking any confidences, but if you know what it is that’s troubling Meredith, you’d be helping her if you told me.” Deanna had allowed her voice to become quietly confidential, eliciting a response she hadn’t expected.  
“She doesn’t mean to be so...aggressive.” The fear that flashed across Elsie’s face and flooded into Deanna made her leave her perch on the desk to sit beside the nervous woman. Her senses on full alert, Deanna said softly,  
“I’m not sure I know what you mean. Would you like to tell me about it?”  
Elsie closed up immediately. If it wasn’t for the torrent of emotions surging out of the woman, Deanna might’ve believed that was the end of the meeting. Showing her usual perspicacity, Deanna said, “Does this have something to do with last night?”  
Elsie’s immediate reaction was to ask “What do you know about that?” By the tone of her voice it was clear she was mortified. Rather than answer such a disingenuous question, Deanna said instead, “Elsie, you and I both know what happened was just an accident. You’ve no need to be embarrassed. What people do in the privacy of their quarters...” She tilted her head and weighed up Elsie’s previous statement “...providing it’s by mutual consent...”  
“Oh, it was!” Blurted Elsie. “Meredith’s never done anything I didn’t want her to!” She declared earnestly.  
“Then why did you mention her aggression?”  
“Well...she went a bit too far.” Elsie’s frown deepened. “Not that I’m complaining, I’m not.” She was quick to explain. “It’s because Meredith’s so...intense that our sex life is so good.”  
“Yes,” Agreed Deanna softly. “A partner who feels everything intensely can be very satisfying. So...” She said carefully, “You’re in love with her?”  
Elsie set her face in an expression of resolute determination.  
“Yes. Yes I am.”  
“That’s lovely.” Deanna’s voice was warm and exuding the same confidential tone that encouraged people to share their secrets. “And Meredith...she loves you?”  
“...Yes.” Although that one word was spoken with conviction, the hesitation, albeit slight, spoke volumes. Picking up not only the ambiguity but the underlying emotions that clearly were at odds with her reply, Deanna said quietly, “You’re not sure?”  
When Elsie stayed silent, Deanna said softly, “It’s not a betrayal to have doubts, Elsie.”  
There was pain, both on her face and in her voice when she replied, “Meredith says she loves me and I believe her...but I’m not the only one she loves and I keep being put in the background all the time. Even when we’re making love, I’m certain she’s thinking about the other woman.”  
“That must hurt.”  
“It does, but what can I do?” Elsie moaned plaintively. “If I say anything we just end up fighting.”  
“And was it during one of these fights that you were injured?” Deanna’s voice was completely devoid of anything but genuine concern.  
“No!” Elsie declared. “Oh, God, no...we were having sex, you know...really into it and Elsie was using the dildo and things just got...it was really intense...you know how it is, in fact I didn’t even know I was injured until after, and then Elsie called sickbay...she was worried of course and she stayed while I was treated...”  
Hearing everything that wasn’t being said, Deanna’s black eyes gleamed as she asked, “But you’re not convinced she’s actually sorry, are you.”  
There was a strained silence, Elsie warring with her desire to protect Meredith and the need to confess her deepest fears, while Deanna waited patiently, aware of her companion’s turmoil but helpless to do anything while things were so precariously balanced. Eventually, Elsie swiped at her eyes, brusquely wiping away angry tears.  
“It’s not just the fact the she’s in love with another woman. There’s something else...she’s driven...no, that’s not right...” She’d been attempting to draw the words she needed out of the air by gesturing with her hands, but failing to adequately articulate her vague feelings, she let her hands fall to her lap. “I can’t explain it, Counsellor, all I can say is that there’s a hell of a lot more to Meredith Bower than meets the eye. She’s...there’s more, so much more inside her and she won’t let anybody see...and...” Trickling into silence, Elsie sat in dejected defeat, her face showing her dissatisfaction at being unable to clearly define what it was she wanted to say. The trouble was, of course, that she was just as unable as Beverly, or Deanna, for that matter, to do the same thing. To make her feel better, Deanna placed a reassuring hand on Elsie’s arm and said softly,  
“I think I know what you mean. Sometimes people are so complex it’s not possible to describe them.”  
Elsie’s eyes showed a trace of sadness and sardonic mockery.  
“You just don’t get it, do you, Counsellor.”  
“What do you mean?” Deanna said guardedly.  
“Meredith’s not complex, not in the least...quite the opposite in fact. She’s base, so innately primitive that I’m surprised no one’s picked up on it before. The feelings...the emotions she expresses, the little she allows, aren’t ones of maturity but borne of a much more primal, instinctive hunger. I doubt she’s capable of what you would recognise as real passion or love, for that matter, but having said that, don’t misunderstand me, I wouldn’t trade her for anything. You simply cannot know just how intense and utterly satisfying it is to have her fuck you, Counsellor. Long ago, on Earth, there was a saying, used to describe things which were beyond comprehension. “Mind-blowing.’ That’s what she does to me, Counsellor, she blows my mind and it’s that feral quality she possesses that’s so fucking fantastic.”  
She suddenly sat up and stared intently into Deanna’s eyes as if by sheer force of will she could make the Counsellor understand.  
“That’s it!” She said urgently. “That’s the thing...the something. Just beneath her veneer of modern, evolved humanity, there’s a feral, insatiably hungry, untamed fucking animal!” Elsie stared at her hands as if they held some kind of answer.  
“My God, how the hell did she get this far?”  
Such frank, powerful words weren’t what Deanna expected, neither was the stunning revelation. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Elsie was capable of such depth of perception, but that a normally respectful and somewhat meek junior officer should be so openly brazen. Deanna had said at the beginning it was an informal meeting, but even during sessions she rarely heard language such as Elsie just used. But there was no way Deanna would censure her for it. Elsie’s raw insights told Deanna so much more than she’d hoped for and besides, it would be hypocritical of her to complain when Elsie had only done what she’d asked her to. And of course, perhaps answered the most important question of all.  
If Elsie thought she was about to be put on report for showing such disrespect, she didn’t seem to care. Her shoulders slumped and she seemed to sink into the seat. Very quietly she muttered,  
“And yet...what does that say about me? I’m not a sadomasochistic submissive. At least I didn’t think I was.” She seemed confused and Deanna felt her helplessness. “Somehow I’ve been subsumed, swallowed up by the sheer force of Meredith’s personality.” She let out a bitter laugh. “And I welcome it! I don’t want anything else.” She turned sad eyes on Deanna. “And I certainly don’t want anyone else to have it.” She whispered, horrified.  
Very quietly, not wishing to break the fragile mood, Deanna asked,  
“Do you think Meredith’s dangerous?”  
“I honestly don’t know.” Elsie whispered pitifully. Then a little stronger, said, “She’s capable of being dangerous...who isn’t...but she’s so obsessed, so single-minded...it’s scary.” She sighed and repeated herself. “I really don’t know.”  
Gently moving her seat closer, Deanna tried to keep her worry out of her voice.  
“Do you know who the other woman is?” She already knew, of course, but it was important to find out if Meredith had made her feelings known to anyone else. If this was indeed an obsession, harboured by a woman who was clearly unstable, then the situation was far worse than she’d first thought.  
There was anger and bitterness in her voice when Elsie spat, “Doctor Beverly Crusher!”  
“What has she said about her?” There was urgency in Deanna’s voice now.  
“Not much.” Elsie laughed acrimoniously. “There’s more being said on the grapevine about it than Meredith’s deigned to share with me.”  
This was news to Deanna. Keeping the surprise out of her voice she said casually,  
“That’s interesting, I’ve not heard anything.”  
The look on Elsie’s face was almost comical in its incredulousness.  
“You listen to gossip?” She gasped.  
Offering a wide, self-depreciating grin, Deanna shook her head. “Not listen, exactly, but I do keep tabs on what’s going around. I have to, in my job.”  
“Hmph. I never would’ve guessed, but now I think about it, I guess it makes sense.”  
Taking advantage of the lessening of tension, Deanna said casually,  
“Do you think Meredith would listen to you if you suggested she should see me?”  
Elsie frowned and immediately became wary once again. “You mean professionally?”  
“Yes.”  
“I don’t think so, Counsellor. She’d most likely get angry.” The fear emanating from her was real. Deanna smiled and patted her arm.  
“That’s all right, forget it, it was just an idle thought.”  
Feeling she wasn’t going to uncover anything more productive, Deanna stood and brought the meeting to an end.  
As the Counsellor left the room, Elsie watched her go with a worried frown.  
“Oh, fuck, there’s going to be trouble, for sure.” She thought. Then on a sudden whim, she tapped her comm. badge. But before she spoke, she had second thoughts. “No...this needs to be off the record. No point in giving anyone any more ammunition. This has to be kept private.”  
Knowing which section of Sickbay Meredith had been rostered to work in that day, Elsie, having surreptitiously cast her eyes about to make sure no one was paying any undue attention, initiated a sequence of commands into her console that opened a direct line of text communication with a similar console in a small laboratory off the main body of Sickbay. Since Meredith’s last talk with Beverly, the Doctor had felt it prudent to keep Meredith, for the most part, away from the general hubbub of Sickbay, reasoning that the Lieutenant would appreciate some time to herself while she gave thought to her future.  
Elsie was fairly confident Meredith would see her carefully worded message.  
“Something important. Port observation lounge, deck eighteen, fourteen-thirty. E.”  
She couldn’t afford to wait too long for a reply, already fellow crew were drifting towards her, it was only a matter of time before one of them came over to see what she was doing, which was an analysis of the background radiation of a dwarf white star the ship had noted three days previous.  
Tiny beads of sweat broke out over her top lip and she almost lost her nerve, but just when she was about to give up, a line of text appeared.  
“Acknowledged. M.”  
Her hands dancing over the console, Elsie erased the messages, then did something she wasn’t supposed to know how to do. During a torrid affair with a woman from Engineering before Meredith, she had learned some things about how to manipulate the computer. Indeed, the covert communication she’d just used was but one of the things she knew.  
In the short space of a minute or two, all trace of what she’d done was erased. If she was right, and she was confident she was, no one could retrieve any evidence that there had been any communications of any kind, covert or not.  
She sat back just as an Ensign appeared. Smiling benignly, Elsie glanced at the small blinking chronograph on her screen.  
“Two hours.” She didn’t know what was going to happen when she told Meredith about the Counsellor and their ‘meeting’, but whatever it was, she felt sure Meredith was going to be very grateful and that meant only one thing. She grinned to herself. Oh, yes, it would be glorious.

 

Meredith was waiting very impatiently when Elsie arrived, out of breath and sweating. Before she could say anything, Meredith crowded into her personal space and hissed,  
“This better be important! I’ve got work to do, you know.”  
Trying to show she wasn’t intimidated, Elsie lifted her chin and replied with what she hoped was haughtiness, “You’re not the only one!” Taking a deliberate step back to re-establish her position, Elsie felt momentary fear at the fierce way Meredith was staring at her.  
“You took the usual precautions?” Elsie asked tentatively.  
“Of course!” Meredith replied disdainfully. “Do you think I’m a complete fool? No one knows I’m here and no one saw me leave.”  
“You won’t be missed?”  
“No! Crusher has me shoved in a fucking shoe-box on my own. What about you?”  
“No problem. I’m supposed to be down on deck eleven downloading some shit. I’m not due back for a good half hour.”  
“Right. Now what the hell do you want?” Meredith was becoming increasingly impatient.  
Before she lost her nerve, Elsie quickly told Meredith about the meeting, speaking so fast it was difficult to keep up. Unfortunately, and injudiciously, Elsie made an appalling mistake. She neglected to leave out the part where she’d shared her insights and perceptions on the true nature of Meredith’s personality. It was a stunning error of judgement.  
When she’d finished, Elsie took a further step back and waited, her eyes riveted on Meredith’s face.   
At first, nothing happened, in fact, Meredith’s expression was completely impassive, but after a few moments, a strange light filled her eyes and making yet another monumental error, Elsie mistook it for affection. It was the last mistake she would ever make and it proved to be a fatal one.

 

Beverly wasn’t in her office when Deanna arrived in sickbay. The head nurse, Alyssa Ogawa quickly told Deanna that Beverly had left to meet with the captain in the lounge. Smiling her thanks, Deanna left immediately and hurried to the lounge.  
Putting a slice of pickled onion with a piece of hard cheese, Jean-Luc chewed thoughtfully as he contemplated his next bite. Having cheese, onions, crusty bread and a glass of synth-ale for lunch had been Beverly’s idea and at first he’d not been too keen, but she’d insisted and he’d acquiesced. And, he was glad he did, it was delicious.   
He glanced up at Beverly and smiled before catching her eye and making a gesture with his finger across his upper lip. At first not knowing what on Earth he was doing, Beverly suddenly realised she had a frothy moustache. With a soft chuckle she used her napkin to wipe it off. She was just about to comment on the cheese when Deanna appeared and, by the way she was looking around, Beverly correctly guessed she was looking for her.  
Holding up her hand to catch Deanna’s attention, Beverly soon waved her over. Arriving slightly out-of-breath, Deanna didn’t wait to acknowledge her Captain, but said urgently,  
“Beverly, we have to talk!”  
Jean-Luc knew Deanna well enough to know she would only ignore him if it was absolutely necessary. Beverly looked pointedly at him and he began to rise, saying,  
“I’ll see you later.”  
But he didn’t get to leave. Deanna turned to him, saying,  
“My apologies, Captain, but I think you should stay.”  
Now Jean-Luc was sure whatever it was it was serious. He sat back down and gestured for Deanna to be seated also. Keeping her voice low, Deanna gave an abridged report of her meeting with Elsie. When she’d finished, she turned to Jean-Luc.  
“Captain, I’m aware you’ve had concerns regarding Lieutenant Bower and I know you’ve discussed with Beverly your inclination to make an official report about her behaviour, but what I thought was a case of simple infatuation, has clearly become something else entirely.”  
Jean-Luc’s dark eyes glittered.  
“Is she dangerous?” His voice carried his worry.  
“She’s obsessed, Captain.” Deanna sighed. “And with what I know now, it is my professional opinion she’s unstable...But dangerous?” She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s quite possible she poses no threat to Beverly, being the object of her obsession, but...”  
“But?”  
Giving her captain a measured look, Deanna said quietly,  
“She would consider you her main rival, Captain.”  
Beverly leaned forward and gasped.  
“Are you saying Jean-Luc’s in danger from this woman?”  
Offering a shrug, Deanna lifted her eyebrows.  
“I really don’t know! Without having the opportunity to have her in session, I can’t give a definitive answer. She may be capable of violence, or maybe not. I just don’t know.”  
Rubbing his fingers over his lower lip, Jean-Luc said thoughtfully,  
“You said she’s unstable. How might that instability manifest itself?”  
“Well, it could be expressed in many ways, Captain. There could be extremes of behaviour, from outright violence to self harm and total breakdown. So much depends of how she perceives what goes on around her that would dictate how she’d react.”  
“Well one thing’s crystal clear.” Declared Beverly forcefully. “We have to neutralise her...get her out of circulation. The sooner we get her confined to quarters, the better.”  
“Hold on, Beverly,” Said Jean-Luc, his hand raised in caution. “She has yet to do anything to warrant that kind of action. Yes, we have the Counsellor’s opinion, which I value, and yes, she has been exhibiting aberrant behaviour, but her rights must be upheld. I cannot, in fact I will not, sanction any acts against her without evidence of a crime.”  
Beverly gaped in disbelief.  
“So, what? You’re just going to just sit on your hands while a mentally unstable woman, who may well harbour violent intentions towards you, runs free around the ship? Are you insane?”  
By his blank expression and the note of warning in his voice, Beverly knew she’d overstepped the mark.  
“Doctor!”  
She didn’t care. The merest hint of danger directed at her lover brought out her fierce protectiveness, unfortunately it was accompanied by her less than politic regard for rank.  
“I don’t give a shit, Jean-Luc. If I have to, as CMO, I’ll section her myself and be done with it!”  
Deanna’s voice was soft in the tense atmosphere. “You can’t do that, Beverly, not without proof. The Captain’s right. She hasn’t done anything yet.”  
Beverly glared hotly at her friend.  
“All right, what can we do?”  
“Surveillance. “ Jean-Luc said quietly. “We activate vidcoms in her quarters, we record her on duty and use the vidcom system throughout the ship to watch her when she’s off duty. The instant she does anything that constitutes dangerous behaviour, we act.”  
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Beverly gritted her teeth.  
“And hope like hell nothing untoward happens in the meantime!” She said bitterly.  
“If you have a better idea, I’d welcome it.” Jean-Luc voice was dry. Beverly looked at her lover and shrugged her capitulation. He then turned his gaze to Deanna, his enquiry a silent one.  
Nodding slowly, Deanna’s tone was reserved.  
“I can’t see any other course of action. Given the circumstances, I think it’s the best option, sir.”  
“Then we’re agreed. Make it so.” There was a strong note of confidence and certainty in Jean-Luc’s voice that Beverly could only hope would prove to be warranted. Somehow she doubted it.  
It wasn’t ideal, and Beverly wasn’t fully convinced, but there didn’t seem to be any other alternative. The three officers left the lounge, they had work to do.

 

Meredith emerged from the small lab and walked at a calm and unhurried pace into the main body of Sickbay, keeping her head up and her expression one of mild interest. She went first to check the status of the two patients currently occupying biobeds, then she moved to make a brisk assessment of the latest readouts and finally, with nonchalant ease, walked by an equipment bay and palmed a tissue regenerator.   
Back in the little room, its monitors displaying the current analysis in progress, Meredith checked the door was locked before taking her tunic off. Running from her shoulder, down the length of her arm and fading to faint pink lines, three deep scratches oozed blood. It was the work of mere seconds to heal them, but the red marks of the newly sealed skin would take a few days to disappear.  
Luckily the black material of her tunic mostly hid the blood that had soaked in to it and Meredith knew she could successfully disguise it until she could dispose of the garment in her reclimator. All she’d have to do then was order a new one from the replicator. Simple! Or so she thought.  
She was back in the main room and was about to put the regenerator back when a cold voice behind her made her hesitate. However, Meredith was nothing if not bold. Without seeming to care, she openly put the tool back in its place, then slowly turned. Taller by almost a head, Pauline Bennet had never quite got over Meredith dumping her. Being higher in rank, she took malicious delight in taking petty revenge wherever she could. As she’d stood behind her former lover, the sight of the obvious love bite on her neck made Pauline seethe with jealously.   
She decided to have some fun.  
“Is that how you think a delicate, precision instrument should be handled?” Her tone was bilious. Meredith, ever careful to maintain appearances, answered respectfully.  
“I’m sorry, Sir. I was in a hurry. It won’t happen again.” Silently she thought churlishly, “It’s not delicate you dimwit! How do you think it could be used in the field if it wasn’t at least robust? Fucking idiot!”  
Meredith’s outwardly calm, respectful response cut the legs out from under her tormentor. Even Pauline knew that making any further complaints would be pointless; in fact, it would be Pauline who’d end up looking petty and foolish. Besides, she thought, why give the gossip mongers something to bandy about. With an imperious nod, Pauline began to turn, but remembered the love bite. Leaning close, she sneered.  
“Not like you to go on duty with such evidence of your sex life, Meredith. You’re usually so careful to keep your sordid little liaisons private. Since when do you advertise? Are you bragging...or slumming?”  
Momentary panic flashed through Meredith, completely misread by Pauline, who actually thought Meredith was showing embarrassment. She was totally unaware of the mark and it certainly wasn’t a love bite. Grinning triumphantly, the taller woman brushed her finger over the red, bruised mark with such implied intimacy that Meredith almost punched her in the face. Afterwards she wouldn’t be able to say how she managed to control herself.  
When the ordeal was over, Meredith, using the same amount of boldness, took the regenerator and sidled into the crew bathroom. Making sure she was alone, and with little time to spare, she used the mirror to find, then heal the mark. Like the other wounds, it would be a few days before it was completely gone and, with a twisted sneer of disgust, she knew that her fellow crew would make merry with what they could see. She briefly considered trying to conceal it with make-up, but...why bother? If the crew wished to think it was evidence of a healthy sex life, so what? She’d let them gossip, in the end, it was to her advantage. Giving herself a critical appraisal in the mirror, Meredith nodded with satisfaction.  
“You’ll do. Fuck them.”  
The regenerator was put back with not the slightest interest by the staff and Meredith went about completing her shift.

 

The three ensigns who worked directly under Elsie’s command had begun to feel restless. The lieutenant had said she’d be back in half an hour. She’d been gone forty-five minutes now and they knew if she didn’t appear soon, their department head would notice her absence and ask some very uncomfortable questions, the most pertinent being, Why did she do the job in the first place? It was her duty to delegate; that was how junior officers learned.  
Wishing to protect their immediate boss, the ensigns moved together and, sotto voce, discussed what should be done. It was quickly decided that ensign Puller, the oldest of the three, should leave to go and find out what was keeping lieutenant Greensale so long. He knew he would have to be quick, lest his absence be noted too.  
The other two ensigns spent the next fifteen minutes on tenterhooks, but Puller’s sudden reappearance made them sigh with relief. That was until he told them what he’d discovered.  
“She never turned up!” He whispered urgently.  
“What?” Said one of his companions.  
“I spoke to Lieutenant Wilcock. He confirmed she hasn’t been there.”  
“Well, where the hell is she?”  
So intent were they on the whispered conversation, none of them heard the soft footsteps as their department head approached. As one, they jumped violently when he barked,

“This doesn’t look like an analysis to me!”  
Separating, their faces flushed and guilty, the youngsters hung their heads. Lt. Comm. Tom Huskins knew who to address. The furtive glances sent his way spoke volumes.  
“Ensign Puller.” Jeremy Puller glanced up and swallowed, his large Adam’s apple bobbing in his scrawny neck.  
“Sir?”  
Folding his muscular arms across his chest, the squat, solid man’s eyes bored into the hapless Ensign’s. “I have only two questions for you, Ensign. One: Where is Lieutenant Greensale? And two: Where did you scuttle off to?”  
Puller, caught like a rabbit in a beam of light had no option but to answer.  
“I don’t know where the Lieutenant is, Sir. As for me, I went to deck eleven in search of her.”  
“And?”  
“She wasn’t there, Sir.”  
His face settling into an irritated sneer, Huskins growled,  
“Well, where is she?”  
“I don’t know, Sir.” Puller had begun to sweat. So far the dept. head hadn’t asked the most crucial, as far as the ensigns were concerned, question and the young man fervently hoped he wouldn’t. Unfortunately, as is often the case with the hopes of the most junior of officers, the sword of Damocles was about to fall.  
“Assuming she left the department on official business, why didn’t she delegate the task to one of you? As your immediate superior it is her job to stay here and supervise the analysis, not go off gallivanting through the ship! That kind of leg work should be given to the most junior officers. She knows that.”  
Puller tried to keep calm, but his body betrayed him by trembling. He swallowed again and when he tried to speak, all that came out was a squeak. Mortified, he coughed and managed to spray saliva in the face of his commanding officer. Huskins closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. Puller stared aghast as Huskins slowly reached up and wiped his face.  
“I’m waiting, Ensign.” He voice barely contained his annoyance.  
“The download was ready, Sir and Lieutenant Greensale told me she would go and get it.”  
“I see. Well it’s obvious I’m going to have to have a chat with the Lieutenant. So, you’ve been to the dorsal computer ODN and she wasn’t there?”  
“No, Sir.”  
“You’re not telling me everything, are you, Ensign?”  
Puller noticed his fellow Ensigns had slowly put some distance between them and him. Isolated, and at the mercy of his commanding officer, Puller decided he’d had enough. Elsie Greensale was a nice person and an easy officer to work with, but loyalty only went so far. He wasn’t prepared to take the blame for anything she’d brought on herself.  
“When I went to deck eleven to look for the Lieutenant, I was told by the core controller that she’d not been there, Sir.”  
“What?” Huskins barked. “Are you telling me that Lieutenant Greensale left this department on ship’s business and didn’t carry out her job?”  
Now clearly shaking, Puller muttered,  
“I couldn’t say, Sir. All I can tell you is that I couldn’t find her and apparently she never showed up at the core.”  
All pretence of intimidation vanished. It was an obviously concerned commander who asked,  
“When was she due back?”  
Puller glanced at the nearest monitor and said,  
“Over an hour ago, Sir.”  
The Commander lifted his head and called,  
“Huskins to Greensale.”  
When there was no reply, he tried again.  
“This is Lieutenant Commander Huskins. Lieutenant Greensale, respond.”  
That also failed to elicit a response.  
“Computer, location of Lieutenant Elsie Greensale?”  
“Lieutenant Greensale is not aboard the Enterprise.”  
“What?”  
Huskins was beginning to understand something was very wrong.  
He made one more call.  
“Security, this is Lieutenant Commander Huskins in Biometrics. We have a problem.”

 

Will Riker was a naturally gregarious man and his amiable countenance showed in his ready grin and warm, twinkling blue eyes. He was a big man, tall and husky with a dark, full but short beard and a pleasant voice. Sitting in front of his captain’s desk, in the ready room, he filled the chair completely. As Jean-Luc outlined the problem and the proposed solution, Will grew increasingly concerned. Eventually he had to interrupt.  
“I’m sorry, Captain, but I think we should adopt a more proactive approach.” His voice was crisp and even. “If Deanna says Lieutenant Bower is unstable and you are in imminent danger, then I don’t think we’ve got much choice. She has to be taken into custody, if not for your safety, then for her own.”  
Jean-Luc was a very democratic commander, relying on and valuing the opinions of his senior staff. Where some captains tended to micro-manage their staff, Jean-Luc had found that people usually performed at their best when they felt that they contributed to the decision making. For this reason he encouraged his officers to, within reason, question his decisions.  
“I understand your concerns, Number One, but I have given this matter considerable thought and it’s my belief that we should be more conservative.”  
Running his fingers through his beard, Will took time to formulate his reply.  
“With respect, Captain, my first priority is to protect you and Bower having freedom to get access to her workplace makes my job nigh impossible. Who knows what she could do with what sickbay has to offer?” He shook his head decisively. “I’m sorry, Captain, I have to insist.”  
Jean-Luc’s face lost its animation and settled into an unreadable mask.  
“I’m sorry you see it that way, Commander.” His voice was flat. “But, as I explained to Doctor Crusher, I cannot authorise punitive action against Lieutenant Bower when to all intents and purposes, she is innocent of committing any crime.”  
Will’s eyes gave away nothing, but his mind was busy.  
“All right, Captain. May I suggest then, that we place a guard...”  
Jean-Luc started to shake his head.  
“...a very discreet guard to keep an eye on you?”  
Jean-Luc studied his first officer and once again admired his quiet persistence. As sure of his convictions as Jean-Luc was of his, Will’s implacable devotion to his duty was impressive...and humbling. With a sigh, Jean-Luc gave in.  
“Very well, Will.” He held up one finger. “But, it must be done discreetly. I simply cannot work knowing I’m being constantly watched.”  
Offering a warm smile, Will nodded.  
“I understand, Captain.”  
The ready room seemed bigger once Will had left. Jean-Luc sat back and spent some minutes in deep thought. Rousing himself, he felt along the hem of his tunic and located the small, personal phaser. He took it out of its hidden pocket and checked the setting. His face showed no emotion, but his thoughts were grim.  
“I hope I don’t have to use this.”  
Having checked the power cell and finding it fully charged he slipped it back into its place. He made an effort to clear his mind of the troubling worry, but the slight protuberance of the phaser where it pressed gently against his body was a constant reminder.  
He decided to put a positive slant to the problem by assuring himself that being reminded of the phaser’s presence merely reinforced his confidence that, in the worst case scenario, he could look after himself. Meredith Bower wasn’t some kind of super-being with unnatural powers, she was an unfortunately unstable person who deserved pity and help and...he wasn’t helpless. Resorting to the use of a weapon would his last choice. As in most things, Jean-Luc would first try to reason with any protagonist. Only when all avenues had been explored would he resort to violence. With any luck, the situation would be resolved long before that.  
He was just settling into his work when the door chimed.  
“Come.”  
Will came in, his expression uncharacteristically grave. Jean-Luc looked up and braced himself.  
“Captain,” Will said, “I think we have a problem. I’ve just received a call from Lieutenant Commander Byan. It seems one of the crew has disappeared.”  
“Disappeared?” Jean-Luc was understandably nonplussed. “Who has disappeared?”  
By Will’s continuing grave manner, Jean-Luc knew there was more to come.  
“Lieutenant Elsie Greensale, Sir. She’s Meredith Bower’s partner.”  
Not wishing to jump to any conclusions, Jean-Luc asked evenly,  
“What do we know so far?”  
“Only that Greensale has been absent from her post for over three hours now. Her department head, Lt. Comm. Huskins, once he noted her absence from her post, made the usual enquiries and, having not solved her disappearance, called security. A search of the ship has failed to locate her.”  
Rising from his seat, Jean-Luc strode out of his office, followed by Will. On the Bridge, Jean-Luc asked,  
“What does the computer say?”  
Will shrugged.  
“Greensale’s communicator isn’t registering, so there’s no bio readout. As far as the computer’s concerned, she isn’t on the ship.”  
Before Jean-Luc could ask, Will said,  
“There’s been no transporter activity and all shuttles, runabouts and escape pods are accounted for.”  
A deep frown creased Jean-Luc’s forehead.  
“Then where the hell is she?”  
It was a rhetorical question and Will didn’t reply. He waited patiently while his captain considered the situation.  
“Search the ship again, thoroughly...And, Will, make sure the teams understand they might be looking for a corpse.”  
Grim-faced, Will turned to carry out his orders. Jean-Luc’s next command was softly issued.  
“Get Bower up here, Number One. It’s time I spoke to her.”  
Will looked over his shoulder, a protest forming. Jean-Luc silenced it with a stern gaze.  
“I know that’s Security’s job, but I can’t hide from her, Will. Sooner or later I’m going to have to confront her. It might as well be in my territory.”  
Giving a curt nod, Will sent a meaningful look at the armed woman standing unobtrusively to one side. She answered the unspoken order by moving closer to her Captain and resting her hand on her phaser’s butt. If Jean-Luc was annoyed by her close scrutiny he didn’t show it. He had too much on his mind.  
Jean-Luc was seated at his desk, the armed guard just outside the doors when the chime sounded. To his acknowledgement the doors parted and Meredith Bower walked in, tentative, but her eyes showing she was alert and wary.  
“You wanted to see me, Captain?”  
He was impressed. She was displaying moderate self-assuredness without appearing over confident. Jean-Luc was well aware he often, without actually meaning to, intimidated junior officers, especially those who’d not been aboard very long. But Meredith Bower showed nothing but respectful interest and steady coolness. While she stood before his desk, at attention, but not rigidly so, he sat back and crossed his legs and folded his hands on his lap, deliberately adopting a relaxed air.  
“Yes, Lieutenant.” His tone was formal, but not unkind. “I understand you know Lieutenant Greensale.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“How well do you know her, Lieutenant?”  
“Quite well, Captain.”  
He offered a small smile.  
“Would you say you were close?”  
“Captain,” Meredith was careful to keep her voice soft and suitably demure. “May I ask what it is you wish to see me about?”  
Jean-Luc’s expression hardened a little, but he maintained his mild tone.  
“Just answer my questions, please, Lieutenant.”  
Meredith’s eyes glittered, but she made no outward sign of her inner anger.  
“Yes, sir.”  
“It is my understanding that you are in a relationship with Lieutenant Greensale. Am I correct?”  
“Yes, Captain.”  
“And how long have you been in this relationship?”  
“A month, maybe more.”  
“I see. I know this might be encroaching on what you consider your personal life, Lieutenant, but I assure you, I have legitimate reasons for asking such intrusive questions. However, I would like to remind you, you are not obliged to answer these kinds of questions. Are we clear about that?”  
She did a very good job of appearing innocent.  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Good. Now we have a situation that we think you might be able to help us with. You do want to help, don’t you Lieutenant?”  
Now she seemed eager.  
“Yes, Captain.”  
Smiling, Jean-Luc allowed warmth into his steady gaze.  
“Splendid. So, to return to my previous question, how close are you to Lieutenant Greensale?”  
“Close, sir?”  
Jean-Luc knew when he was being played for a fool. He didn’t say anything, merely maintained a penetrating, calculating stare. Meredith decided now wasn’t the time to try and get into a pissing contest with her captain.  
“Oh, I’d say we’re pretty close, sir.” But she just couldn’t help herself. “The sex is damned good.”  
Jean-Luc was unimpressed by her attempt to shock him; in fact he found the effort juvenile and trite. The way he ignored her jibe only served to anger Meredith further, but still, she didn’t show it, but that didn’t stop her blurting,  
“She’s not my only lover, Captain. We’re not exclusive. I find monogamy boring.”  
Still giving no indication he was the slightest bit perturbed by her salacious declarations, Jean-Luc asked, “Are you aware that Lieutenant Greensale is missing?”  
Despite her anger, Meredith did a very good job of appearing confused and alarmed.  
“Missing, sir?”  
“Yes” He replied mildly. “We’ve been wondering if you might know where she is.”  
They stared at each other, tension skittering around the room. With each passing second the atmosphere became more and more charged. Jean-Luc maintained his piercing, intense gaze while Meredith’s dark anger boiled just under her stony exterior. Though her body remained still, her eyes blazed. Jean-Luc’s right hand shifted imperceptibly, moving closer to his phaser and he felt the muscles in his arm tense in preparation of sudden use. Just then the door chime sounded. Meredith lowered her eyes and the connection was broken.   
“Come!”  
Will, knowing he was interrupting something important, sent his captain his apologies in his meaningful look. Letting out a long breath he’d been unaware he held, Jean-Luc made sure he refrained from showing his displeasure at the intrusion. He was aware Will wouldn’t have disturbed him without good reason. As if to accentuate that, Will moved swiftly to Jean-Luc’s side, bent and whispered close to Jean-Luc’s ear,  
“We’ve found Greensale, Captain.”  
Tilting his head slightly, Jean-Luc raised one eyebrow. Will understood the silent question.  
“She’d dead, sir. Her body was found stuffed into an ODN port on deck eighteen, starboard side.”  
Knowing that no cause of death would be issued without a post mortem first being carried out, Jean-Luc didn’t ask Will how she’d died. Instead he nodded his acknowledgement and gestured for Will to wait by his side. The tall man stood with feet braced, his hands behind his back, staring implacably at the lieutenant.  
Meredith hadn’t moved, her eyes were still downcast.  
“I have just been informed, Lieutenant,” Jean-Luc’s expression was unreadable. “That we have found Lieutenant Greensale and it is my sad duty to tell you that she is, unfortunately, deceased.”  
Looking suitably distressed, Meredith conjured up some tears.  
“Elsie? Elsie’s dead? Oh, my God...How?”  
“We don’t know, yet, but I have full confidence in my Security Chief. I’m sure we’ll discover how your...partner met her untimely demise.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“If you’re not too upset, I have a few more questions I’d like to ask you.”  
“I’m sorry, Captain, but I don’t feel very well.” She adopted a bilious visage. “It must be shock. May I be dismissed, please, sir?”  
“Well played.” Mused a wry Jean-Luc, silently.  
“Of course, Lieutenant. Perhaps we can continue tomorrow...when you’ve had time to recover?”  
“Yes, sir, thank you.”  
After she’d left, Will took his place in front of the desk.  
“What do you think, sir?” His tone clearly showed his distrust.  
“I’m not convinced she’s responsible, but what I’ve been told about her is true. There’s a definite feeling of...something, whatever it is, it surrounds her like an aura.” He snorted and shook his head. “Of course one can’t condemn someone on a feeling, but still...”  
Will glared at the closed doors and grunted.  
“Well we’ve got a murder investigation to get under way. Commander Byan will be leading the investigation.”  
“There’s no doubt it was murder?”  
Will paled slightly.  
“None whatsoever, Captain. I saw the body, believe me, Greensale didn’t kill herself.”  
“Damn. There goes one theory.”  
“Sir?”  
“Oh...” Sighed Jean-Luc. “It had crossed my mind that Greensale might’ve committed suicide and a lover, for whatever reason, concealed her body, trying to protect her, perhaps. But...” he gestured with his hand, indicating Will’s statement about being sure it was murder.  
“Suicide is bad enough, in fact it’s terrible, but murder? My God, Will!”  
The first officer shared his captain’s horror. Understanding Jean-Luc needed some time on his own, Will said before he left,  
“Beverly will have the results of the post mortem by fourteen hundred.”  
Jean-Luc nodded and waited until Will had gone. He rubbed his eyes and let his shoulders slump, muttering sadly,  
“Jesus, where will this lead?”  
Little did he know just how far into hell he would go before it was over.

Under the circumstances, Meredith felt she didn’t have to report back to sickbay. Making sure she kept her head down and displaying appropriate expressions of shock and grief whenever she encountered crew, Meredith walked quickly through the corridors on her way to her quarters. Once inside she stripped off her tunic and, savagely ripping her communicator and rank pips free, crammed the bloodied garment into the reclimator and jammed her finger on the reclaim control.   
She watched dispassionately as the tunic disappeared in swirling, sparkling energy. She stood, transfixed, blinking slowly before she said softly, “Uniform tunic.”  
The new top duly appeared and, as if in a daze, Meredith affixed the pips and communicator to it, then tossed it carelessly aside. It hit the arm of her lounge chair and slid to the floor where it lay in a softly crumpled heap. As soon as it left her field of vision, Meredith dismissed it from her mind.  
“What an insufferable prick!” She muttered angrily. “Who the bloody hell does he think he is? Are we close?” She snorted derisively. “Oh, yes, my dear Captain, we were close.”  
She went to her small viewport and stared at her reflection. Her anger began to abate and as it eased, her analytical mind resurfaced.  
“I’m going to have to be very careful, he’s no fool. And he’s going to be pouring poison into her ear. If I’m not really on top of my game, she’s going to be even harder to reach. Shit! He’s all ready got her skittish about me.” She frowned and her eyes drifted away from her reflected image and out into the stars. “He didn’t get to be Captain of this bucket just by virtue of having a big cock.” That made her chuckle and look back into her own eyes. “So they say...” She snorted and shook her head. “What does she see in him? He’s hardly an impressive specimen. He’s not tall, he’s bald and his completely self-absorbed. Jesus, he thinks he’s fucking God! And the idiots on this ship actually perpetuate his inflated opinion of himself.” She let out an irritated huff. “Still, he’s a smart cookie, I’ll give him that.” She grinned at her reflection and offered a wink and a jaunty tilt of her head.  
“When this is over, and she’s mine, it’ll be that much sweeter for being such a challenge.”  
Meredith had no doubt whatsoever that Beverly would eventually succumb to her dogged pursuit. Not only that, such was her supreme confidence in her own abilities, she didn’t even consider that she’d ever be discovered as Elsie’s killer. In fact, since the moment when she’d closed the ODN port, thus concealing the pitiful remains of her dead lover, Meredith had simply pushed all memories of Elsie from her mind, including those of her murder. It was an ability she’d had for most of her life and it paved the way for what became the wall she so successfully put between herself and everyone else.  
Turning from the viewport, she wandered into her bedroom and on, into the bathroom. Stripping off the rest of her clothing and reminding herself to dispose of it, she stepped under the sonic shower and allowed the gentle waves to cleanse not only the residual blood traces, but anything that remained of Elsie from her body.

 

Jean-Luc felt the weight of Elsie’s death on his shoulders as he entered sickbay. He was early; the post mortem was still in progress. It was sad, he thought, that he knew the way to the morgue. If only there were some other way to get the answers they so desperately needed. He wasn’t squeamish, in fact he had a very pragmatic view of life and death and the inherent frailties of the human body, but when the circumstances were as they were now, that being the violent death of a young woman, seemingly by the hand of a fellow crewmember, it was all the more tragic and deeply disturbing.  
Of course, many had died under his command, young and old, men and women, but losing one’s life in the line of duty at least served some purpose. Murder, on the other hand, was simply such a waste. Pointless. Would we ever learn, he wondered.   
Beverly was wearing a white, shiny full-length apron over her uniform and he winced silently at seeing the smears of blood upon it. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her wear anything like it before.  
She didn’t look up, having sensed his close presence. By her tone of voice, Jean-Luc knew she was appalled by what she had found.  
“It was a violent death.” Beverly said softly. His eyes fed him the images of bruises and abrasions on the corpse’s skin. “I’ve found severe internal injuries...broken bones...”  
Jean-Luc moved a little closer, feeling an up swell of pity for the battered young woman.  
“Have you determined the cause of death?” His voice sounded hollow to him.  
“Yes.” Beverly sighed. “Her neck has been broken.” Turning slightly, Beverly placed one gloved, bloodied hand on the cold metal surface of the table. “This...” She gestured towards the body. “Was a frenzied attack. Whoever did this was out of control. But...”  
Her eyes went back to Elsie’s swollen, darkly mottled face. “The breaking of the neck was clinically done.”  
Squinting, Jean-Luc tilted his head.  
“I’m not sure I understand.”  
Beverly’s small smile was a sad one.  
“Come here, I’ll show you.”  
They moved away from the table and went to a screen, inset into the wall and taking up half the wall’s area. Beverly, having peeled off her soiled gloves, tapped a control pad and an image appeared.  
“This is the cervical spine.” She reached up and touched the back of her neck. “Here. See these vertebra?” Jean-Luc moved closer and peered at where Beverly was indicating on the screen.  
“Yes.”  
“Okay, this here...” She isolated the area and magnified it. “See the fracture?”  
“Uh huh.”  
“It was done with great force, but also with particular precision.” She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes studying the image. “When a neck is broken, most often there’s quite a bit of damage done. People seem to think that merely twisting the head around will effect death, but that’s not so. If an assailant wishes to end someone’s life by breaking their neck, it needs to be done quickly and accurately, otherwise all you’d achieve is some kind of paralysis, partial or full depending on how badly it was done. Usually the victim is fighting for their life, making it difficult for the assailant, but...”  
She tapped her knuckle against the screen  
“Whoever did this, knew exactly what they were doing and it was done with great care which is at odds with the other injuries which show, as I said, a frenzied attack.”  
Rubbing his fingers over his lower lip, Jean-Luc’s dark eyes wandered over the grisly image.  
“So what are you telling me? The murderer, having spent their passion in the attack, suddenly...sobered...and was clear headed enough to cold-bloodedly kill the victim?”  
“Pretty much.”  
Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc shook his head.  
“Such a dichotomy of emotion would seem to suggest an unstable mind.”  
“Maybe.” Beverly said. “But you could say that about anyone who murders. Let’s face it; deliberately taking a life requires a very disordered mind.”  
“Or...” Jean-Luc’s eyes left the image and settled on Beverly’s “A very cold and calculating one.”  
“That’s a scary thought!” They both looked at each other and it was Jean-Luc who asked the obvious question.  
“Do you think Meredith Bower is capable of doing this?” He gestured to the screen. By way of a reply, Beverly moved to Elsie’s body and stared down at it.  
“I think what you should be asking is, is she capable of doing that.” She nodded towards the body. Moving back to the table, Jean-Luc couldn’t help but feel deeply disturbed by the evidence of such ferocious violence. Elsie’s battered and broken body silently called for justice.  
Interrupting his chilling thoughts, Beverly said quietly,  
“There’s one more thing, Jean-Luc. That method of breaking the neck? Most of us have been trained how to do it. It’s part of the Academy self-defence training.”  
Jean-Luc’s gaze was sharp as the ramifications of Beverly’s disclosure came home to roost.   
“So any one of the crew...” He whispered, aghast.  
“Yep. How many suspects do you want?”  
“Merde!”  
There was a momentary silence while Jean-Luc absorbed the scope of the problem he now faced. Hoping his next question would shed some light on an otherwise very dark mood, he said carefully,  
“What about trace evidence?”  
Beverly raised her eyebrows and gave a tentative half-smile,  
“Well it’s not much, but...” She went back to the screen and brought up a new image. Jean-Luc looked over from the table.  
“We found a concentration of microscopic fibres under the nails of her right hand.”  
“So...she scratched her killer?”  
“It looks like it, but only the uniform, there weren’t any skin or even microcellular DNA traces. Just the fibres.”  
Jean-Luc’s eyes slid back and forth as he thought furiously.  
“In your opinion, are there enough of these fibres to suggest she scratched with enough force to mark her killer?”  
“You mean through the uniform? Hmm, that’s difficult to say. The fabric is quite robust. Look at her nails.”  
Jean-Luc studied the image and grunted .  
“Damn. Regulation.”  
“Yep. Trimmed short, neat and clean as per regulations.”  
“But surely the killer’s skin would bear some kind of marks?”  
Nodding slowly, Beverly thought she knew where he was going.  
“Yes. Even if the skin wasn’t broken there would be marks, but they would quickly fade.”  
“Yes,” Jean-Luc’s voice was eager now. “But if it was done with enough force, even if the skin wasn’t broken...”  
Beverly snapped her fingers.  
“Bruises!”  
“Exactly!”  
“Okay, but how does that help? We don’t know where on the killer’s body she scratched. I mean, you can’t just go and ask people to strip to be examined. You have to have more evidence before you even contemplate making a request like that.”  
“I know, but it would make for a very strong case, wouldn’t it? If we narrowed it down to one or two suspects, it would be the defining piece of evidence.”  
“Providing the killer doesn’t remove the evidence beforehand.”  
“Hmm. Well, I suppose that’s a risk we’ll have to take. What else have you got?”  
“Nothing.”  
His face clouded and his brow lowered.  
“Nothing? How is that possible? What about microcellular residue?”  
Pulling up her lower lip, Beverly shrugged helplessly.  
“I don’t what to say, Jean-Luc. We processed the body before I opened it up. Apart from microscopic fibres found on its head and right hand...”  
“What about those fibres? Can you be more specific?”  
“Not significant, I’m afraid. They are a perfect match to the replicator file for standard duty uniforms. Everyone on this ship is wearing a uniform made from the same file.”  
Jean-Luc sighed heavily.  
“What about her uniform? Is there anything on that?”  
Beverly really wanted to give Jean-Luc some good news, but there just wasn’t any.  
“Same deal. There are some excess fibres over the tunic, but...”  
“Not significant. Damn.”  
He shook his head with frustration.  
“What about the killer’s uniform? Would it show the scratch marks?”  
“I doubt in, Jean-Luc. The fabric has been specifically designed to resist marking or tearing. It’s like I said...very durable.”  
Absently scratching the short bristles of grey hair above his ear, Jean-Luc was casting his net wide.  
“Very well, what about her killer? Surely with that amount of violence, he or she would have injuries of their own? Broken knuckles? Abrasions? She...” He tilted his head at Elsie’s body. “Must have fought back. What about defensive injuries? Other than her obvious attempt to scratch?”  
Rubbing her forehead in frustration, Beverly briefly closed her eyes.  
“I don’t know what to tell you, Jean-Luc.”  
“Nothing?”  
“Nope. Either she managed no more than that one scratch, or she was incapacitated or killed first, then...”  
Jean-Luc glanced down at the brutally violated body and grimaced.  
“...Then whoever it was...did that.” Jean-Luc finished for her.  
Beverly said nothing. Words, at that point were unnecessary.  
“Mon Dieu.” Jean-Luc whispered. Beverly understood his horror, she shared it. She took her apron off and, taking him by the elbow, led him from the room, with all its grisly connotations and ushered him into her office. He refrained from sitting, so Beverly perched on the edge of her desk.  
“What are you going to do?”  
He sighed and massaged his temple, as if he had a headache. While he formulated his reply, Beverly stood and went to her side of the desk and retrieved a tricorder from a drawer. He only knew she was scanning his head when the device’s soft whirring broke his concentration.  
Irritated, he batted Beverly’s hand away, but the scan was complete.  
“You have a stress headache, Jean-Luc.” She informed him. “Sit down; I’ll fix it for you.”  
Knowing to refuse would only cause an argument; he did as he was told. Sometimes, especially with Beverly, discretion really was the better part of valour. She left the office but soon returned and, as she administered an analgesic, he answered her question.  
“The short answer is, I don’t know. Of course I won’t be leading the investigation, that’ll be in the hands of our Security Chief.”  
Nodding thoughtfully, Beverly asked,  
“How is Lt. Comm. Byan doing anyway?”  
“Um...fine, I suppose.” Jean-Luc shrugged. “His skills haven’t actually been tested yet, although he is well-qualified and was highly recommended.” But then he muttered, “He’s only held the post for a month.”  
“Do you think he’s up to it?”  
“Oh, I think so; Will would never have suggested him for the position if he wasn’t certain he could do the job.”  
Beverly gave an encouraging nod, but said quietly, “Might pay to check his record anyway.”  
Pulling his closed lips to one side, Jean-Luc shook his head.  
“I don’t think that’s going to help. Besides, how many people do you know who’ve investigated a murder? People with that kind of experience are a little thin on the ground.”  
“Hmm, you have a point. What about command?”  
He shrugged.  
“Well, obviously I’m going to have to report it, but as to requesting help...no. I want to handle this in-house.”  
“That’s providing you get a quick result. If it drags on...or, worse you don’t find the killer, you won’t have much choice and the powers that be are going to be royally pissed off that they didn’t get on board the investigation as soon as the murder was discovered.”  
Jean-Luc’s annoyed glare made Beverly hold up her hands.  
“I’m just playing Devil’s Advocate, Jean-Luc.” She put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “You have a difficult case here and an inexperienced Security Chief. Maybe it’d be wise to take advantage of all the help you can lay your hands on.”  
He stood and gave Beverly a warm smile.  
“I’ll consider it.” Casting a look outside and seeing no one paying them any attention, he leaned in and placed a soft, quick kiss on Beverly’s lips. Before she could react, he was gone.  
Beverly’s wistful smile faded as she approached the morgue and its sad, cold occupant.

 

Having been contacted by her captain and told the details of his interview with Meredith and the subsequent murder of Elsie, Deanna had waited until the following day before making any move to approach Meredith. Although somewhat doubtful, Deanna was willing to give Meredith the benefit of the doubt regarding any grief she might be experiencing. Even though what Elsie had said about her lover was compelling, it wasn’t hard evidence. In Deanna’s position, she used many ways of gathering information about her patients, done not to intrude, or out manoeuvre, but to augment what her sometimes reluctant patients had to say. However, she had to be very careful in how she reacted to hearsay. The opinions of a lover weren’t proof, merely the disclosing of another aspect of the individual, as seen through the eyes of someone close to them.  
Nearing Meredith’s quarters, Deanna couldn’t help but hear Will’s voice in her mind. Before leaving their quarters that morning, she’d told him of her intention to see Meredith. He’d frowned and taken her hands in his.  
“May I offer some advice?” He said carefully. “Take someone from Security with you.” Before Deanna could protest, he held up one hand.  
“I’m not saying your guard should accompany you inside her quarters, but that they might wait outside. Just to be on the safe side.”  
Offering a smile, Deanna shook her head.  
“I really don’t think that’s necessary, Will.”  
His next words, though softly spoken, lost none of their chill.  
“She’s dangerous, Deanna. She may well have murdered Elsie Greensale.”  
“I can’t assume she’s guilty, Will, nobody can. She, like everyone else, has a right to be presumed innocent until proven guilty.” There was a definite edge to Deanna’s voice.  
Pursing his lips, Will, nodded.  
“I know that, but you know as well as I there’s something about her...and I think it’s that she’s unhinged and, like I said, dangerous.”  
Now clearly irritated, Deanna said sarcastically,  
“Is that your professional diagnosis?”  
He saw the determination in her eyes and the hard set of her features. He gave a nod and said quietly,  
“All right, just be careful. Okay?’  
Some of her irritation abated and she summoned a smile.  
“Okay.”  
Now, as she stood outside Meredith’s quarters she rued her stubbornness. Having an armed guard would feel very comforting right now. Still, she had a job to do. There was a very troubled woman beyond the doors who needed her help and she’d be damned if she was going to let fear real or imagined, stop her from offering any assistance she could.  
Just then Deanna sensed a wave of anger coming from Meredith and she paused, her finger hovering over the door annunciator. Shaking off her alarm, Deanna reasoned anger was understandable, given the circumstances and she went ahead and pressed the tab. Within seconds the anger she sensed surged and again, Deanna hesitated. What lay inside was becoming a mystery to Deanna and the only way she was going to solve it was to enter.  
Despite Meredith’s reputation as being cold and unapproachable, several people had already dropped by to offer their condolences, although Meredith thought they were only there to spy and gather fuel for their gossiping.  
“What the hell did they think they’d see?” She sneered. “A bloodied nightie? A pair of Elsie’s dirty knickers?” She grunted, picked up and threw a shoe across the room. “Fuckwits!”  
Just as the shoe hit the floor, the door chimes sounded.  
“Computer! Who the fuck is at my door!”  
“Counsellor, Deanna Troi.”  
“Fuck!”  
Meredith’s first reaction was to refuse to see Deanna, citing grief, but that might eventually prove to be counterproductive. The fact was she needed Deanna on side. Casting a look around her quarters and deciding it was just untidy enough to give the impression of someone who was too upset to even consider something as unimportant as housework, Meredith softly cleared her throat, arranged her features appropriately and called,  
“Come in.”  
Although she was very wary, Deanna’s genuinely concerned expression showed nothing of the undercurrent of trepidation she felt. She used the fact that humans were unable to see anything of her emotional state in her black eyes and studied Meredith and, at first glance, saw just what she expected. A woman, grief stricken at the loss of her partner, made worse by the manner of the lover’s death.  
“How are you, Meredith?” Deanna asked gently.  
Meredith noted the use of her given name and smiled inwardly. “So, that’s how she’s going to play it? Very cosy. Nice opening gambit, Counsellor.” She thought smugly.  
Outwardly her face collapsed and she raised her hands to cover it. She felt Deanna gently take her arm as she was led to the sofa and guided to sit. She even managed some tears.  
“I know it must’ve been such a terrible shock. Do you want to talk about it?”  
Sniffing loudly, Meredith lowered her hands only to wipe ineffectually at her tears. A tissue suddenly appeared, making Meredith think coldly,  
“My God, she even came prepared.”  
Offering a watery look of gratitude, Meredith made a show of wiping her eyes. Deanna monitored the emotions coming from the lieutenant and frowned a little as it seemed as if she really was experiencing genuine grief. What Deanna didn’t know was that although it was true she was feeling grief, Meredith’s emotions were not because Elsie’s death, or her part in it, but more the loss of a willing and very talented sexual partner. Meredith couldn’t have cared less that it was Elsie. Individuals didn’t matter at all to her; it was what she could get out of them that interested her.  
When it seemed Meredith was able to talk, Deanna said softly,  
“From what I can gather, your relationship with Elsie was very intense.”  
“Now I wonder how she knows that?” Thought Meredith, with cruel amusement.  
“Oh, yes it was, Counsellor. Very intense.” She gulped.  
“Sometimes, when the death of a loved one occurs, we try to blame ourselves. And, of course if the death is sudden...and violent, we tend to think that maybe, somehow, we might’ve been able to prevent it.” Although Deanna’s voice was soft, her eyes were keen and she concentrated on what she could feel from Meredith.  
Maintaining her perfectly constructed role, inside and out, Meredith nodded; her expression forlorn.  
“Yes, I’ve felt that.” She sniffed. “If only I’d done what she’d wanted!” She almost wailed.  
“What was it Elsie wanted, Meredith? Deanna was well practised in modulating her voice and not showing when she was keenly interested in what was said to her.  
“Oh...” Meredith moaned. Fresh tears flowed and with them an accompanying wave of grief. Taking a shuddering breath, Meredith quietly wept. “She...she suggested we take the day off...spend it in...bed.”  
“Why didn’t you?”  
“Um...I didn’t want to disappoint Doctor Crusher. She’d asked me to do an analysis on a bacteria she was studying. It wasn’t exactly official...you know...it was one of the Doctor’s personal projects, but she’s such a nice person and we’ve had...that is, I’ve been...” She sighed. “I suppose you know about it anyway.” There was such abject misery in her voice that Deanna almost winced.  
“If you’re referring to your feelings towards Doctor Crusher, then yes, I know.” Deanna said gently. Meredith shook her head and dabbed at her eyes.  
“It’s not just that, Counsellor. I’ve made an arse of myself. I’ve acted inappropriately...nothing serious, you understand, but bad enough that Doctor Crusher gave me a stern talking to and threatened me with an official complaint if I ever behaved that way again.”  
This was news to Deanna and she felt a flash of irritation towards her best friend for keeping such important information from her, especially in the light of recent events. Outwardly, however, she gave no sign of even the slightest discomfit.  
“I see. Well,” She sighed. “Sometimes, when we feel strongly about someone, our judgement can falter. It’s not uncommon, Meredith and I’m sure Doctor Crusher understands. You have to remember that she has to maintain a certain standard of discipline.”  
Nodding, Meredith blew her nose loudly. “So does Captain Picard.”  
It seemed an innocuous remark, but somehow it was out of context. Deanna, her gaze sharpening, homed in on it.  
“Why do you mention the Captain?”  
“Shit!” Thought Meredith. Deanna felt a spike of apprehension and wondered briefly why that would be so.  
“Oh, you know, he’s such a stickler for rules and regulations. It’s just that if Doctor Crusher put me on report, it’d get back to the Captain and I’d probably be in even more trouble.”  
“Yes, that sounded okay.” Meredith almost congratulated herself. But Deanna wasn’t about to give up.  
“And why would you think it would come to the Captain’s attention? It would be Commander Riker’s job to assess the report and take any appropriate action. For the Captain to become involved it would have to be a serious breach of discipline. It wasn’t was it?” Deanna’s voice, though soft, carried a hard edge to it.  
Meredith’s expression of shocked horror would’ve done credit to even the finest of actors.  
“Oh, no, Counsellor! Definitely not!”  
“Then why are you worried about the Captain finding out?”  
Taking a deep breath, Meredith gave Deanna a look that clearly said, “Can I trust you?”  
Putting a reassuring hand on Meredith’s forearm, Deanna said quietly,  
“It’s all right, Meredith, you can tell me.”  
“Well...everybody knows, so it’s not as if it’s a secret or anything.” Absently dabbing at her eyes, Meredith said softly, “Doctor Crusher...she’s involved with the Captain. I suppose it’s only natural that she’d talk to him about...things.”  
“And you believe she’d tell him if she put you on report.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Meredith, just because Doctor Crusher is in a relationship with the Captain doesn’t mean he would interfere in her interaction with her staff. She is a department head and Captain Picard relies on the heads to run their departments efficiently. To take any action over and above whatever Commander Riker thought appropriate would be completely contrary to the way the Captain runs the ship. Such an action would undermine not only Commander Riker’s authority, but Doctor Crusher’s as well. Do you really think he’d do that?”  
Scratching her head, Meredith pursed her lips and shrugged.  
“When you put it that way, I suppose I don’t.”  
There was a short silence before Deanna asked gently,  
“Did Elsie know how you felt about Doctor Crusher?”  
“Careful...” Meredith warned herself.  
“No. Yes.” Grimacing, Meredith conjured up some fresh tears. “I don’t know...maybe.”  
“So, you loved Elsie, but you also have strong feelings for Doctor Crusher.”  
“Yeah and it made me feel terrible!” She broke into wracking sobs and Deanna rubbed her back, waiting for the episode to pass.  
When the sobs had subsided to ragged hiccups, Deanna said very gently,  
“Meredith, did you have anything to do with Elsie’s death?”  
Again, shock and horror contorted Meredith’s tear streaked face.  
“NO! Oh, God...no!” The sobs returned and Deanna was nearly overwhelmed by waves of grief that poured from the shattered woman in torrents.  
The Counsellor sensed there was nothing further to be gained by continuing. She stayed with Meredith until she’d regained most of her composure then left, promising to return at a later date.  
When the doors closed, Meredith leaned back on the sofa and lifted her head to stare at the ceiling. A wicked grin appeared.  
“Oh I think that round went to me, Counsellor.” She said. “Now, all I have to do is get through Byan’s interview. Piece of cake!”  
No one else bothered Meredith until Byan came to her quarters an hour later.

 

Security chief Byan stood before his captain’s desk in the ready room. A Bolian, he was round and blue as were the rest of his species and Jean-Luc wondered idly if there were any examples of individuals that weren’t so...homogenous. The Captain put aside his speculation and focused on the PADD in his hands.  
It was the preliminary report of the investigation so far and, as Jean-Luc read, his expectations collapsed as it became clear that Byan and his team hadn’t uncovered anything more than Jean-Luc himself had.  
Of particular interest was Byan’s interview of lieutenant Bower. There just wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, or at least, what one could expect to find in a situation where a person had lost a loved one to a sudden, violent death.  
Her alibi had been thoroughly checked, Jean-Luc silently disgruntled that Beverly herself was one of the corroborating witnesses.  
It was now twenty-two hundred hours and he was fed up and tired. One thing the post mortem revealed that he didn’t know was the time of death. Put at ten twenty five that morning, eight and a half hours had passed and they were no closer to finding the killer.  
Jean-Luc sat back and considered throwing the PADD across the room. Of course that was out of the question, so he simply tapped it against his fingers.  
“Tell me, Commander,” He said mildly, showing none of his frustration. “What is your opinion of Lieutenant Bower?”  
By the way Byan hesitated; Jean-Luc knew he was unwilling to voice his feelings. To encourage him, Jean-Luc asked,  
“Would you like to sit down, Commander?”  
Offering a grateful smile, the Bolian said,  
“Thank you, Captain.” Once seated, he shifted around, as if trying to fit his round, muscular bulk into a comfortable position. Jean-Luc waited patiently and was rewarded when Byan sighed and shook his head.  
“To be honest, sir, I’m not sure what to make of her.”  
“Really? Can you be more specific?”  
Placing his large hands on his thick thighs, Byan tilted his head, the darker blue markings on his forehead seeming to rise, giving the skin a ridged look.  
“Well...I’m not sure I can put it into words, sir. It’s not that she behaved inappropriately, on the contrary, I saw nothing that caused suspicion...no, it wasn’t anything she said or did...but...”  
His massive shoulders heaved as he sighed and shook his bullet-like hairless head.  
“I’m sorry, Captain.”  
Jean-Luc let him know he wasn’t upset by sending a small smile.  
“Don’t be, Commander. You’re not the only one to have reservations about the Lieutenant; in fact it’s very perceptive of you to pick up on it.”  
Jean-Luc stared at his now cold tea and sighed.  
“But...misgivings aren’t proof and without something solid to go on, and in the face of the Lieutenant’s incontrovertible alibi, we must move on. We cannot afford to dwell on unsubstantiated suspicions.”  
“Yes, Captain...but, sir...where do we go from here? My interviews with the known associates of Lieutenant Greensale have shed absolutely no light on anything that might constitute a motive for murder.”  
Briefly closing his eyes, Jean-Luc felt drained.  
“Let it go for now, Commander. Get some sleep and come at it again in the morning. Perhaps a decent night’s rest might give you a new perspective.”  
The Bolian heard the subtle dismissal and stood.  
“Yes, sir. Good night, Captain.”  
Once he’d left, Jean-Luc tossed the PADD onto the desk in disgust. Pushing forefinger and thumb into his eyes, he gritted his teeth.  
“Somewhere on this ship, a murder is loose. Merde!”

 

Deanna had decided not to confront Beverly over her withholding of vital information about Meredith until the Doctor had ended her shift. The counsellor was waiting for Beverly as she knocked off and the pair walked slowly to Jean-Luc’s quarters. Beverly was well aware Deanna had something on her mind and assumed it was about Meredith...everything else was. Beverly had been interviewed not once, but three times over different aspects of Meredith’s statement and as her department head and Beverly had had enough. As if she didn’t have enough to do in a normal day, stopping for lengthy periods to answer interminable questions about Meredith Bower and her lover was almost too much.  
So, when Deanna said casually,  
“I didn’t know you’d had more problems with Meredith Bower.” Beverly was at the end of her tether.  
“Oh for God’s sake! Not you too!”  
Deanna had been sensing Beverly’s growing frustration and irritation but didn’t react. Instead she just smiled.  
“Yes, me too. But Beverly, I do have to know. What did she do that made you so upset, you threatened to put her on report?”  
Knowing that trying to put Deanna off was pointless didn’t stop Beverly from wishing she could simply tell Deanna to go away. However, that wouldn’t work either so a very annoyed doctor told Deanna everything that had happened between her and Meredith, including Jean-Luc’s reactions and advice. When she was finished, Beverly closed her eyes and allowed her body to slump into the sofa’s soft cushions.  
Deanna’s silence made Beverly open her eyes and when she saw the counsellor’s expression, she frowned.  
“What?”  
“I’m not sure.” Deanna’s voice showed her uncertainty and surprise.  
Sitting up, Beverly’s curiosity was roused.  
“Did she say anything to you that might be construed as a motive?” Beverly asked.  
Deanna shook her head, but she didn’t seem convinced.  
“Not exactly...” Then she looked up and gasped. “I know what it is. Meredith made an oblique comment about the Captain and at the time I thought it odd, but now...This has been going on for some time...longer than either of us realised.”  
Confused, Beverly tilted her head.  
“You mean her infatuation with me?”  
“Yes, but more importantly, Meredith’s animosity towards the Captain.”  
Beverly shrugged, showing her lack of understanding.  
“What animosity towards Jean-Luc? Are you saying Bower resented Jean-Luc because of my relationship with him?”  
“More than resentment, Beverly. I’d go as far as to guess it was open hatred.”  
“But that’s absurd!” Protested Beverly. “If she felt that way, surely I’d have known?”  
“Why? Bower wouldn’t be likely to let her feelings about the Captain be known to you, it would only serve to alienate you, the exact opposite of what she wanted.”  
“So you’re saying she sees Jean-Luc as a rival? For me?”  
When Deanna said nothing Beverly swore.  
“Shit!” Then she asked carefully, “Do you think Bower killed Greensale?”  
Letting out a huff of air, Deanna shrugged.  
“I don’t know. But the more I learn, the more suspicious I become.”  
“How so?”  
“Well...take Elsie Greensale. I cannot find anyone who has a bad word to say about her. She was well liked, popular, even her superiors have entered glowing reports in her file. She was intelligent, diligent, proficient, respectful and showed both competence and initiative, in other words, an exemplary officer. Meredith Bower, on the other hand, was the total opposite. Her contemporaries have nothing kind to say about her, she’s viewed as cold, sexually promiscuous and devious. Her file reads as the quintessential example of what an officer shouldn’t be! She’s remote, haughty she makes it difficult for junior officers to work under her and you yourself knows she can be difficult to get to work in a group.”  
Beverly shook her head in wonder.  
“What were those two women doing in a relationship? They were polar opposites!”  
Deanna sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.  
“Look, from what I hear...and I stress this is only gossip, Elsie Greensale’s sexual appetite was only equalled by Bower’s prodigious libido. Maybe their relationship was based on nothing more than a mutually satisfying sex life?”  
Beverly nodded slowly.  
“Hmm, I’ve heard rumblings too. Not from Elsie’s former lovers, but Meredith’s. It wasn’t that they were dissatisfied, quite the opposite in fact. Meredith seems to be quite the exponent where it comes to sex. What I’ve heard is that she uses women. Once they no longer amuse her, they get dumped and it’s caused a lot of bitterness.”  
“Yes, I’ve heard that too, but where does it get us? Having commitment issues or, for that matter, dysfunctional relationships isn’t motive for murder. God, if it were, most of us would be killers.”  
Beverly let out a mildly amused snort and shrugged.  
“Well I for one have no idea and to be perfectly honest, I’ve had about all I can take of Meredith Bower for now.”  
Hearing the gentle admonishment, Deanna smiled and gave a nod.  
“Agreed.”  
As she moved to the door, Beverly called gently,  
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything, Dee.”  
“It’s okay, Beverly, as long as you told Byan.”  
“Yes, I did.”  
“Well that’s fine then. Good night.”  
“’Night.”

 

As Jean-Luc walked into his quarters, Meredith Bower eased into her bed. As she’d predicted, the interview with Byan had been relatively easy. She knew her alibi was solid, she really only had to convince him of her grief, which she knew she had. With a self-satisfied smile on her face, she sighed and closed her eyes. She slept soundly and didn’t dream.

 

In stark contrast to Meredith’s contentedness, Jean-Luc, though exhausted, was restless and grumpy. Understanding his mood, Beverly kept out of his way and allowed him to decompress on his own. It wasn’t until he joined her in bed that she said more than the bland, idle comments of earlier.  
“Any news?”  
He sighed and shook his head.  
“No.”  
“Well maybe something will turn up tomorrow.”  
He turned his head and, by the starlight, Beverly saw a tired grin.  
“Ever the optimist.”  
Turning onto her side, Beverly eased against his body and entwined their legs while drifting her hand onto his chest. When she began to gently tease his nipple, Jean-Luc turned his head and said with disbelief,  
“Really?”  
“Do you want to?” Beverly’s tone was hopeful.  
He looked up at the ceiling and considered the question. Before he could give an answer, Beverly said softly,  
“It’ll help us both.”  
He snorted softly.  
“Stress relief?”  
“Why not?” She purred. “Besides, it’s always nice.”  
“Hmm. I think...you have a point.”  
Later, although sated and as Beverly slept peacefully beside him, a wide awake Jean-Luc looked up at the ceiling, but his eyes saw nothing. Inside his head his mind faithfully displayed every hideous detail of Elsie Greensale’s mutilated body. Sleep, he knew, was a luxury he would be denied this night, and perhaps many more before this terrible situation was resolved one way or another.  
So, resigned to a sleepless night, he ordered his thoughts and began to look at each aspect of the situation one-by-one.  
Right. What do we know about the actual killing? He mused. Beverly’s description was very accurate, it was frenzied, but...the breaking of the neck, that was deliberate, calculated. Such extremes! One out of control, the other...premeditated? Hmm. So, are we looking at a crime of passion or a spur-of-the-moment act of violence? What could’ve caused someone to want to kill Elsie Greensale? What do I know about her?  
He sighed and closed his eyes, ignoring their gritty dryness. He’d already read Elsie’s file three times before finally ending his shift and he was sure there wasn’t anything that might suggest a motive for murder. Still, taking a methodical approach he was obliged to go over what he already knew.  
Lieutenant Elsie Greensale. Thirty-one, one hundred and sixty-eight centimetres tall, seventy two kilos, brown hair, green eyes. Class of 2381, finished third in her graduating class. Two postings before arriving on the Enterprise eight months ago. At the time of her death was assigned to biometrics under the command of Lt. Comm. Tom Huskins. A popular and competent officer with excellent potential.  
Sadness washed over Jean-Luc, it seemed so cold and callous to reduce a person’s existence into several emotionless, curt sentences. Knowing such emotion wasn’t helping his analysis, he moved on.  
So, there’s nothing there to indicate a motive for murder. What about her private life? He accessed his memory and brought up the interviews carried out by Byan and his team.  
Generous, a happy disposition, well liked. Past lovers...no complaints there...long term relationships? Hmm, nothing much...at the time of her death was in a relationship with Meredith Bower. He opened his eyes and stared intently at the ceiling.  
Meredith Bower. She’s in love with Beverly. So why did she fall for Beverly if she was already in a relationship with Greensale? Hmm, it happens, I suppose, but not usually if the relationship is committed and stable. So, was it? And if it wasn’t could there be reason for conflict? Bad enough for Meredith Bower to contemplate murder? Hmm. Of course, that’s assuming Greensale knew about Bower’s feelings for Beverly. I’ll have to talk to Troi about this. See what she thinks.  
All right, is there anything else, an incident or falling-out that might be the catalyst for someone to become so enraged that they would be compelled to commit murder?  
He thought hard but drew a blank.  
All right. Let’s look at the two components of the killing. Violence and calculation.  
What is violence? What constitutes the essence of violence? Jean-Luc suddenly realised that in all the literature he’d read, he rarely found anything of note written about violence. Of course that probably had more to do with his personal tastes in literature, but, he thought, perhaps writers found it more rewarding to write about the more redeeming qualities of humankind. Love, yearning, tragedy, mystery, loss. Things of that ilk. He frowned as a new thought occurred. As much as I enjoy reading about those things, there are those who would gain just as much pleasure digesting literature devoted to much darker aspects of humanity, including violence.   
He sighed.  
So, what is violence? Does violence have parts? Can one dissect it? Hmm. What are its base constituents?  
All right, well there’d be lust and...Envy...Anger of course...Avarice...Hmm...What else?...Oh, vengeance...When nothing else came to him, instead of worrying it like a dog with a bone, he left it as it was and worked with what he had.  
So, are these things failings or motives? I suppose that depends on the murderer and how they relate to their crime. Anyone intent on murder would be in the grip of these emotions, presumably, but would it be one, some or all? Which would apply?  
And if these elements...these roots aren’t present, then the killer has committed the murder without feeling. That would suggest a psychopath...or is it sociopath? Centuries ago...murderers who killed several people without remorse...what did they call them? Jean-Luc frowned as he struggled to bring the term to mind. His mouth opened slightly as the thought came to him.  
Serial killers! Yes, that’s it. A terrible sinking feeling gripped him. Mon Dieu, don’t tell me we’re looking at that. No...not more murders! Before his mind ran away from him, he shut down the errant thoughts and brought himself back to his dissemination of violence. Unfortunately his thoughts only circled uselessly and his train of thought reached a dead end.   
Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc shifted his perspective.  
Well then, what about calculation? That would seem to suggest some sort of planning. So that would make the murder premeditated. But that doesn’t explain the violence! All right, put that aside for the moment. If the killing was premeditated, there must’ve been something brewing...some thing that set in motion an irrevocable course of action. And that action was murder. Is there any clue, any hint of what the impetus was, what the motive was? He sighed and rubbed his eyes.  
What kind of person kills with such clinical precision? And was the killing done before or after the violence? He shook his head. No, don’t think about both elements, concentrate on the intent.  
Was it an act perpetrated by a disordered mind, or a cunning, calculating one? Dammit! The evidence suggests both! All right, could we have someone who is capable of being both? Why not? Jekyll and Hyde. Two disparate personalities in one mind. It’s possible. He grimaced. Probably more common than we’d like to admit. Something else to discuss with Troi.  
But surely someone with that kind of dysfunctional personality would never have made it through the Academy? And what about Troi? Wouldn’t she have picked up something?  
Hmm, how much control would someone like that have over their personalities? Would they be aware of the dichotomy? And which personality would be dominant?  
Deanna, you and I have a lot to discuss. Feeling he’d reached the end of the analysis, he sighed and closed his eyes.  
Until the killer was caught, his questions would remain unanswered.

 

The eyes that watched Meredith as she reported for duty the day after the murder were curious and speculative. As soon as Meredith had entered Sickbay, silence fell like a blanket. Beverly, who was just coming out of her office, felt the tension before she registered the sudden cessation of noise. sickbay usually exuded an undercurrent of friendly warmth, due in most part to Beverly’s stewardship. There seemed to be a constant murmur of voices and soft footfalls as the staff moved about the facility. Once these sounds ceased, the silence was immediately oppressive. It was true, Beverly had deep misgivings about Meredith Bower, but she had been cleared of any involvement in her lover’s murder and so deserved better than to be ostracised. That wasn’t how Beverly intended her staff to treat a fellow crewmember. Not in her sickbay!  
Summoning a smile, she greeted Meredith with compassion.  
“Lieutenant Bower,” She said gently. “Are you sure you want to report in? I’m sure I can spare you if you wish to take more time off.”  
With a sad smile of her own in place, Meredith inclined her head.  
“Thank you, Doctor Crusher, but I’m okay. I think I want to keep busy...you know.”  
“I understand.” Casting a meaningful look around the room, Beverly made her intentions obvious. “Well, I’m sure you have the support of everyone here. If I can be of any assistance, don’t hesitate to ask.”  
“Thank you, Doctor.”  
“Now, that bacterial analysis is still unfinished. Would you like to carry on with it?” Asked Beverly with gentle authority.  
The thought of being cooped up in the small lab made Meredith silently curse, but outwardly she gave an enthusiastic smile and a nod.  
“Yes, Sir, I’d like that.”  
“Very well. When the current stage has been completed, come and see me and we’ll talk.”  
“Yes, Doctor. Thank you.”  
The eyes still followed her but, as Beverly watched her staff, each person lowered their gaze and turned their attention away from Meredith. They may have their suspicions, but Beverly had made it clear by her example that while the Lieutenant was in sickbay she would be treated as a valued member of staff. Outside the medical facility was another matter entirely.

 

After Jean-Luc’s long night wrestling with his thoughts, he had spent over an hour with Deanna going over his queries. At the end of the discussion, while he was now quiet well informed about mental illness and the reasons behind some forms of aberrant behaviour, he was no closer to discovering either the killer’s identity, or the motive for the murder. Neither were Byan’s team.  
After conducting exhaustive interviews with everyone who was even remotely connected to Elsie, no new information surfaced. They repeatedly found the same things. Elsie had no enemies and no one could think of a reason why anyone would want to kill her. Meredith wasn’t popular, but again, no one thought she had any reason to kill Elsie, or that she might be capable of committing such an act.  
Three days after the murder, Jean-Luc met with Will and Byan in the ready room. They discussed the findings such as they were at length and found they kept coming back to same thing. Meredith’s alibi.  
Will, sitting beside Byan in front of Jean-Luc’s desk, pulled his lower lip up and shook his head.  
“I can’t see any holes in it. Bower entered the lab at nine forty-eight. We have witnesses who can verify that. She worked in there until eleven fifty and was seen exiting and putting a regenerator in the equipment bay. We have a statement from Lt. Comm. Pauline Bennet who can attest to talking with Bower at that time. She states there was nothing out of order. Bower was calm, and going about her normal duties.”  
Byan looked at the PADD in his left hand.  
“Doctor Crusher has told me that Bower had agreed to do an analysis for her, although it seems it wasn’t part of her usual duties. As I understand it, the work was of a personal nature for the Doctor. Apparently she was doing private research and Bower volunteered to assist.”  
“Very commendable.” Muttered Jean-Luc and Will thought he detected a soft note of sarcasm. He shot a look at his captain, but as usual, Jean-Luc’s expression was unreadable.  
“Go on.” Said Jean-Luc quietly.  
Byan shifted in his seat. “Well, Captain, there’s not much else to report.”  
“I see. Do we know why Bower had been using the regenerator?”  
Will and Byan looked at each other and the Bolian shrugged.  
“Not specifically, sir. A device such as a regenerator would be in almost constant use. Most of the patients who come into sickbay have only minor injuries...cuts, soft-tissue damage and the like. Most, if not all, are treated using a regenerator. And, sir, there’s no evidence to suggest Bower had actually used it. It’s just as likely she was restocking the bay. That would be part of her normal duties.”  
Rising from his seat, Jean-Luc went to the viewscreen, placed his hands behind him and stared out into the void.  
“And there’s no other way out of the lab?” He said softly.  
“Yes, sir, there is. There’s a hatch that leads to a Jefferies tube, but a check of the computer logs show that the hatch hasn’t been opened for at least ten days.”  
Jean-Luc turned, his knuckles tapping his spine.  
“Computer logs can be altered.” His tone was mild, but there was an edge to it.  
“Yes, sir, they can. But we found no evidence of tampering.” Byan had begun to sweat. Bolius was a much cooler planet than Earth and he always found the temperature too high on the ship. Only in his quarters, where he could have the temperature set to his specifications, did he feel comfortable.  
Everyone who worked with Bolians was aware of the problem so the sight of a copiously perspiring Bolian didn’t cause any untoward reaction. However, in the close environment of the ready room, the sweet odour of the sweat became a little cloying. Bolians had very high standards of hygiene and it was considered, among their people, to be very embarrassing to allow any body odour to be detected. Unfortunately, under the current conditions, that was unavoidable. Still, Byan almost squirmed with humiliation. Jean-Luc knew what was causing his security chief to flush a darker blue and offered a smile while making a gesture to the doors.  
“Shall we take this into the observation lounge?”   
With great relief, the large man stood and waited respectfully for his captain, then the first officer to leave before he followed. As they crossed the bridge, Jean-Luc called evenly,  
“Mr. Data, will you join us please?”  
Once in the bigger, airier room, Jean-Luc took his customary seat at the head of the long, curved table, Will on his right, Data to his left and Byan next to the left. Resting his forearms on the tabletop and knitting his hands, Jean-Luc waited until all three officers gave him their attention.  
“Mr. Data, have you been keeping up with the investigation into the murder of Lieutenant Elsie Greensale?”  
“Yes, Captain.”   
“Good. There’s something I want you to do, something that is particularly suited to your remarkable talents.”  
“Sir?”  
“I want you to examine the sickbay computer logs from the day of the murder, time index: nine forty-five to twelve hundred hours.”  
“Can you tell me what it is you are looking for, Captain?”  
“I’m not sure, but rather than concentrating on what’s recorded in the log, I want you to see if you can identify any anomalies with the log itself.”  
Data’s head tilted from side-to-side.   
“You suspect tampering, Captain?”  
“Perhaps. We have someone whose alibi depends almost entirely on the log. I just want to make sure she’s telling the truth.”  
Data stood and nodded.  
“I will begin at once.” He inclined his head towards Jean-Luc. “Captain.” Then to Will, “Commander.”  
Byan looked again at the PADD. He sighed and ran a hand over his very round, hairless head.  
“If Commander Data fails to find anything wrong with the log, Captain, I don’t see how I can take the investigation any further forward. It’s stalled, sir.”  
Pursing his lips, Jean-Luc turned his attention to Will and raised one eyebrow in silent enquiry. The big man, well used to his captain’s mannerisms, knew what was being asked.  
“I agree, Captain. We don’t have any suspects and we don’t have a motive. It’s dead in the water.”  
Bowing his head, Jean-Luc frowned.  
“That, gentlemen, leaves me with but one option.”  
Will sighed.  
“Command.”  
“Exactly. I’m going to have to request help from Starfleet Command.”  
Not sure what kind of reaction he’d get to his next question, Will hesitated before he asked it.  
“Ah...Do they know, Captain?”  
Pulling his mouth to one side, Jean-Luc nodded.  
“Oh yes, I informed them as soon as I knew about it. They offered assistance at the time, but...” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I told them we could handle it.”  
“Damn!” Will muttered. “That’s not going to look good in your record, Captain.”  
“That doesn’t concern me Number One. What’s important is that the murderer is found. It matters not who does it because a killer is walking around the ship, free and believing they’ve got away with it. And, God forbid, they might kill again. I don’t care how I might be treated over my handling of this situation; I know we did our best. Whatever the experts find...” He shrugged. “Is immaterial, as long as they have success.”  
Byan grunted and his hand tightened its grip of the PADD.  
“I can vouch for you, Captain. I’m certain everything that could be done, has been done.”  
A small smile appeared on Jean-Luc’s face but instead of brightening his countenance, it served only to make him look more tired. Will suddenly realised the terrible burden his captain had been carrying and immediately regretted not doing more to ease the load. Of course that was unreasonable. There simply wasn’t anything more Will, or anyone else could’ve done.  
“Thank you, Mr. Byan,” said Jean-Luc. “Your loyalty and confidence are much appreciated.” He sat back and rested his hands, open on the tabletop.  
“Well, if there’s nothing else, you’re dismissed.”  
Will and Byan stood, but only the Bolian left the lounge. Will, looking down at his Captain, asked quietly,  
“So?”  
Jean-Luc sighed and gave a defeated shrug.  
“We wait to see if Data comes up with anything.”  
“Fingers crossed.”  
“Indeed.”  
As Will turned to leave, he stopped and said softly,  
“Are you all right, sir?”  
Jean-Luc’s smile was tired, but warm.  
“Yes, Will, I’m fine.”  
As the first officer went back to the Bridge he shook his head.  
“No surprise there. He’d say he was fine even if his legs were dangling by a thread.”  
Jean-Luc rose from his seat and went to the large viewports that ran down the entire wall. He placed one hand against the moulded frame and stared sightlessly out into the stars.

 

Having finished her duty shift, Meredith had gone back to her quarters and retrieved a bottle of rum. It was against regulations for her to be in possession of any real alcohol, that was only permissible for the senior staff. She unscrewed the lid and swigged a mouthful, screwing her face up as she swallowed. It was only after the fourth deep gulp that she finally bothered to get a glass to continue her dinking. Having not eaten all day, the alcohol quickly began to affect her. In her drunken state, she became belligerent and decided she wished to vent her pent up anger. Leaving her quarters and weaving down the corridor, she made her way to the forward lounge.  
As had happened in sickbay, once she’d entered and the patrons realised she was there, silence fell and eyes stared accusingly.  
Chin up and defiant, Meredith walked boldly up to the bar and adopted a haughty air. Unfortunately it was wasted on the serving staff. Although still staring at her, no one moved to take her order. Incensed, but not showing it, Meredith chose the closest waiter and gave him a withering look whilst saying icily,  
“I’ll have a neat rum!”  
The middle-aged man could hardly refuse to serve her but he didn’t have to do it quickly. With deliberate sloth, he casually poured a half-measure into a glass then, rather than go to her and place it on the bar top, he sneered and sent it sliding along the shiny surface.  
There were titters and chuckles, none stifled. Undaunted, Meredith gripped the glass shoved it back along the bar, towards the server saying loudly,  
“A full measure!”  
The man’s eyes glittered with anger, but he complied. However, this time, when the glass had been topped up, he walked slowly along the bar’s length until he was standing opposite Meredith. Maintaining eye contact, he slammed the glass down with such force, the alcohol inside shot upwards and spilled, sending rum spreading out across the surface of the bar.  
Meredith was shocked. “How dare he treat me like this!” She seethed. As everybody watched, she leaned over the bar and grabbed a handful of the man’s shirt. Her voice was low and deadly.  
“You fuckwit! Get me another drink and this time, mind your manners or I’ll see to it that you’re dismissed and put off the ship at the next star base.”  
Knowing he had overstepped the mark, the man offered a mumbled apology and did as he was told. With the full glass in her hand, a brazen Meredith turned to face the scowling crowd. She lifted her glass and her chin.  
“A toast! To Elsie Greensale!” The stunned audience watched in fascinated silence as Meredith tossed back the rum then slammed the glass back down.  
“Again!” She said loudly to the bar man. Her behaviour was becoming a spectacle and a fellow lieutenant detached herself from the crowd and sidled over.  
Keeping her voice low, she said,  
“That’s enough, Meredith. You’ve made your point.”  
Meredith disposed of her fresh drink in the same manner as the first. Although she was drinking synthehol now, she had begun to feel its effects, but instead of simply shaking it off, as one could do with synthehol, she embraced the feelings as they were amplified by the authentic rum in her system and grinned wickedly.  
“Hypocrites!” She shouted. “You’re all so fucking self-righteous. Think you know everything, don’t you?”  
The lieutenant grabbed Meredith’s elbow and tried to guide her to the doors. “Come on, you’re going to your quarters.”  
The blow that felled the woman was delivered with such speed, she didn’t have a chance to block it. She fell to her knees, dazed and Meredith raised her hand to hit her again when strong arms pinned her against the wall. Although ferociously angry, Meredith recognised how compromised she was and how foolish she’d been. She didn’t struggle, but relaxed and lowered her head.  
The doors parted and two security staff entered. Obviously someone had summoned help. While the lieutenant was assisted from the lounge, Meredith was taken into custody and escorted immediately to the brig.

 

Jean-Luc had just sat in his favourite chair, a tumbler of scotch in his right hand. Beverly was in the bedroom and having decided, if Data found nothing amiss, to hand everything over to command, he felt the accumulated tension of the past days ease. The door chime was an unwelcome intrusion, but an unfortunate part of his life. He never even considered refusing to answer it.  
“Come.” There was resignation in his voice and Beverly frowned at hearing it as she re-entered the living area.  
Will entered cautiously, upset that he was disturbing his captain. However, Jean-Luc greeted him mildly.  
“Yes, Number One, what can I do for you?”  
“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, Captain, but something’s happened that I think you should know about.”  
All traces of relaxation vanished and Jean-Luc’s eyes sharpened.  
“This evening, in the forward lounge, Meredith Bower was involved in an assault of a fellow officer.”  
“I see. Is she in custody?”  
“Yes, sir. She’s in the brig.”  
The weight was back, dragging his head down. Rubbing his forehead, Jean-Luc said quietly,  
“Thank you, Will, I’ll take it from here.”  
“Aye, sir.”  
He stood and Beverly slipped her hand into his.  
“She’s been under a terrible strain, Jean-Luc.”  
“I know.” He said tiredly. “We all have.”  
As he stepped into the corridor, Jean-Luc tapped his comm. badge.  
“Picard to Byan.”  
“Byan here, Captain.”  
“Meet me outside the detention cells, Commander. Picard out.”

 

Byan was waiting for Jean-Luc. He straightened as the captain approached and nodded silently when Jean-Luc reached him.  
“Captain.”  
“Report, Mr. Byan.”  
The security Chief gave Jean-Luc a brief description of what had occurred in the lounge and ended by saying,   
“The victim of the assault has indicated she does not wish to press charges.”  
“Very well.” Jean-Luc nodded. “In your opinion, Commander, was there sufficient provocation to justify Lieutenant Bower’s behaviour?”  
“Difficult to say, sir, but she has been the subject of a lot of unhealthy speculation. I suppose it’s fair to say she been under a significant amount of stress and grief and that she’d just had enough.”  
Jean-Luc bowed his head and pursed his lips. His voice was low and soft.  
“And there was real alcohol involved?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Was she drunk?”  
“Judging by her state then, I’d say she was, but is now slowly sobering up.”  
Jean-Luc shook his head in disappointment and exasperation.  
“Very foolish.” He sighed gave Byan a tired smile.  
“Very good. Thank you Commander.”  
Having been dismissed, Byan took his leave. Jean-Luc entered the brig and indicated to the duty officer that he wished to be alone with the prisoner by pointing backwards over his shoulder. As the huge doors trundled closed, Jean-Luc stood in front of the only occupied cell and studied the woman inside.  
Meredith was sitting in the corner of the bunk, her knees drawn up to her chin, arms wrapped around her shins and her forehead resting on her knees. He’d not often seen someone who appeared to be so broken and forlorn. It wasn’t until Jean-Luc spoke that she realised he was there.  
“Lieutenant?”  
Her head came up slowly and by her dazed look, Jean-Luc understood she was still drunk. But, once she recognised him, she unfolded herself and climbed unsteadily to her feet.  
“Captain.”  
“Would you like to tell me what happened?”  
“Sir...I...” She shook her head and sniffed. “I’m not sure, Captain.”  
“I see. I understand the pressure you’ve been under, Lieutenant, but I can’t condone your actions.”  
“No, sir.”  
“However, given that you have been under considerable stress lately, I am willing to release you to your quarters until this matter is dealt with.”  
“Thank you, Captain.”  
Jean-Luc deactivated the force field and walked alongside the stunned lieutenant, escorting her without seeming to do so. It wasn’t until she reached her quarters that Meredith realised what he’d done.  
She turned to face him and he saw confusion in her eyes as if she was just waking up.  
“Thank you, Captain.” Her voice was soft and Jean-Luc thought he’d heard a trace of appreciation in it. He nodded and said quietly, “I expect you to dispose of any remaining alcohol, Lieutenant.” Then he left.  
Inside her quarters, Meredith went straight to her bedroom and flung herself across the bed.  
“You stupid, fucking idiot! What the hell did you do that for? My God! Jesus, you’ve given them something to chew on now! They’re going to be snapping at your heels. Shit, you might as well have confessed. Stupid, stupid fucker!”   
She needed to break something. She needed to get her hands around something and squeeze the life out of it. Unable to vent her pent up rage properly, she instead turned her fury on her quarters. When she was finally spent, she collapsed into bed. The devastation she’d wrought would have to wait until morning to be repaired. The pungent smell of rum permeated the room.

Deanna was unsure whether or not Meredith would answer her door chime. The counsellor had been waiting almost five minutes with no response and was considering using her override to gain access. Jean-Luc had briefed her about the events of the previous night and Deanna was quite sure Meredith would be feeling wretched about now. She carried with her a hypospray, loaded with a compound that would alleviate the symptoms of a hangover.  
Just as she lifted her head to request the override, the doors opened. Tufts of Meredith’s short hair were sticking up at odd angles, her face was puffy and her eyes mere slits. She’d obviously slept in her uniform, it was rumpled and stained. From inside her quarters, the sour odour of vomit and spilled alcohol wafted out in waves and Deanna had to resist the urge to wrinkle her nose in disgust. To compensate, she breathed through her mouth.  
At first, Meredith just stood there, then she croaked,  
“Yes?” She leaned forward slightly and screwed her face up as she tried to identify her caller. “Counsellor Troi?”  
Her breath was putrid and Deanna almost stepped back, but she swallowed her distaste and summoned a soft voice.  
“I’ve brought something that’ll help, Meredith. May I come in?”  
Offering little more than a grunt, Meredith turned and shuffled into the living area. Deanna entered and couldn’t help but gape at what she saw.  
The room was in utter chaos. All the furniture had been overturned, anything breakable lay shattered on the carpet. Marks showed where things had been thrown with considerable force against the walls. PADDs a monitor, clothing, all manner of things were strewn around the room.  
As Deanna’s eyes took in the carnage, she saw a smashed bottle and then, nearby, another. The strong alcohol smell was coming from them.  
Meredith was standing near the viewport, hugging herself. Deanna went to her and administered the hypo. As the drugs worked their magic, Meredith let out a long, slow breath and held up her hands. As she watched, the trembling slowly ceased.  
Deanna went and cleared some space, then righted two chairs. She sat in one, crossed her legs and waited.  
Meredith, wary, walked over to Deanna but didn’t sit. Now feeling much better, her usual aloofness resurfaced. Deanna had been expecting this and said nothing, merely kept waiting.  
Growing increasingly annoyed, Meredith said tightly,  
“I’m fine now, thank you Counsellor. You can go.”  
Deanna looked up at Meredith her face impassive. She made no move to leave.  
“Counsellor, I appreciate your concern, but really, I’m okay now.”  
Deanna directed her gaze at the empty chair, but didn’t say or do anything. Though she was trying valiantly, Meredith was unable to control her emotions. As Deanna sat passively, she struggled to erect mental barriers to deflect the tumultuous emotions she sensed pouring out from Meredith in a torrent.  
Deanna was deeply disturbed by the emotions, they were dark, angry and very powerful. Under the circumstances she felt they were understandable, but still, so potent and dark.  
Meredith knew what was happening and was helpless to stop it and that only served to increase her anger. In an attempt to gain some semblance of control, Meredith threw herself into the empty chair and tried to regulate her ragged breathing.  
Eventually she succeeded. Deanna felt the outpouring of emotions ease and opened her mind, unprotected by her barriers. It was a risk, but one she was willing to take.  
Gesturing with her hand to indicate the devastated room, Deanna said quietly.  
“What happened?”  
Not looking at anything but Deanna’s face, Meredith shrugged, but offered nothing by way of an explanation.  
“How do you feel?”  
In response to Meredith’s frank look, Deanna smiled.  
“All right, I sense you’re doing your best to feel calm, but there’s an underlying current of anger, bitterness and...” Tilting her head, Deanna frowned as she tried to pin down the elusive thread of emotion. What she came out with wasn’t quite right, but it was the best she could do.   
“Shame.”  
Meredith’s eyes narrowed.  
“Shame?” She said as if the word left a bad taste in her mouth. “Why would I feel shame?” The air of aloof superiority was firmly back in place. Deanna had to find a way past it if she was going to be able to help.  
“You don’t think your recent behaviour warrants shame?”  
The lieutenant shrugged.  
“I let off some steam, Counsellor, a lot’s happened and I was feeling the strain. I don’t see why I should feel ashamed.”  
“Most people would go to the gym...take out their more intense feelings on a punching bag.” Deanna said pointedly.  
“I’m not most people, Counsellor.”  
“Are you saying you’re different? Special perhaps?”  
Again, Meredith shrugged and, although she appeared relaxed and calm, the emotions Deanna sensed were quite the opposite. Still, she did her best to maintain her charade.  
“Isn’t everybody unique in their own way? I thought people in your line of work stopped pigeon holing individuals a very long time ago.” There was an edge to Meredith’s almost, but not quite threatening observation that caused Deanna to become very wary.  
“It is true that every individual is unique, but there are certain patterns of behaviour that we all share. Some of these patterns are taught, some are the consequence of experience and thus learned and some are instinctive. But no matter how these patterns are acquired, the individual has certain predictable ways of expressing them.”  
Sitting back in her chair, Meredith crossed her legs and steepled her fingers under chin. Her appearance was one of smug indulgence, spoiled somewhat by her dishevelled appearance, but Deanna saw right through it. Inside she was tense and wary and anger smouldered dull and hot.  
“I see. How interesting. So, you think this...” She swept her hand to indicate the room. “Is a result of me reacting to...shame.”  
“No, not shame, Meredith. Anger. Deep, powerful, pent up rage.”  
Outwardly she kept her indifferent expression, but inside she seethed and Deanna started to think she should leave. But Meredith surprised her. With a monumental effort, she crushed her emotions savagely, stuffing them down until the only thing Deanna could sense was cruel amusement. It’d happened so fast, the change from furious anger to cold emptiness stunned Deanna so thoroughly she didn’t hear when Meredith spoke. Snapped back into the room, she focused on what Meredith wss saying.  
“So now not only am I supposed to be feeling shame, but anger too? Really, Counsellor?”  
Feeling in great danger and extremely vulnerable, Deanna got to her feet and began to move towards the door. Meredith did nothing but watch her with hawk-like intensity.  
“Going somewhere, Counsellor?” Her voice was low and silky-smooth. “And here was I thinking we were getting along so well.”  
“I don’t think there’s anything to be gained by me staying.” Nervously gesturing with her hand, Deanna summoned wan smile. “You have a lot to do. Perhaps I’ll come by later.”  
Meredith’s smile was cold.  
“Whatever, Counsellor. I’ll be here.”  
When the doors closed behind her, Deanna didn’t tarry. As she walked quickly away, she tapped her comm. badge and arranged an immediate meeting with Jean-Luc and Beverly.

 

“Captain, we have no choice!” Deanna was very upset, her tone urgent and intense.  
Jean-Luc frowned and stared out at the stars, his back to his officers. The ready room was silent, Deanna and Beverly waiting tensely while he digested the report. Deanna had described her meeting with Meredith and offered the opinion that the lieutenant was definitely psychologically unstable and should be detained, if not for her own safety, then for everyone else’s.  
Turning slowly, Jean-Luc’s lips were pursed.  
“I want to clarify something, Counsellor.” He said. “Is this...instability worse now because of the pressure the Lieutenant has been put under, or has it grown in response to something she’s done?”  
“That’s hard to say, Captain. By asking if it’s because of something she’s done, are you referring to the incident last night...or...?”  
Beverly’s whispered words chilled them all.  
“The murder.”  
Jean-Luc’s dark eyes were piercing.  
“I’m not accusing her, not without evidence, but I have to consider all possibilities. We’re faced here with a very disturbed woman who may, or may not, have murdered her lover. Either way, her behaviour, all ready less than acceptable, has become worse. The question must be asked. Is this deterioration in her behaviour the direct result of something she’s done? Something so bad, it’s tipped her over the edge?”  
“It’s impossible to say, Captain.” Deanna’s voice carried her frustration. “But either way, whether it was last night’s outburst or something far more sinister, the undeniable fact remains. Meredith Bower has to be taken into custody.”  
Beverly, who for the most part had been content to listen, broke the tension by asking,  
“Deanna, I know you wouldn’t be so insistent without good cause, but I’m curious. Just what was it about your meeting with Bower that has upset you so much? I’m not suggesting for one second you’re wrong about her, but from what you’ve told us, it seems just a clear-cut case of a mental breakdown. Why custody? Why not medication and confinement to quarters?”  
Taking a deep breath, Deanna took a moment to plex while she ordered her thoughts. When she was ready, she turned to Beverly and offered a smile, letting her best friend know she wasn’t offended by what Beverly had said.  
“It was the most frightening thing I think I’ve ever witnessed.” He voice carried her remembered fear. “In those brief minutes I was with Meredith, I saw three completely different people.”  
Beverly’s eyes narrowed.  
“Multiple personality disorder?”  
“No. Three different manifestations of the same personality.”  
Curious, Jean-Luc left the viewport and perched on the corner of his desk.  
“Is that possible?”  
“Yes, Captain, but it’s exceptionally rare.”  
Edging forward on her seat, Beverly’s gaze was intense.  
“Exactly how did she present these manifestations?”  
“I sensed her very easily as I approached her quarters. She was asleep. It took her a long time to respond to the door chime and I knew immediately she was very hung over. Her emotions were subdued, she was more interested in feeling sorry for herself than anything else. My first sight of her merely substantiated what I sensed. She was vulnerable, withdrawn, the total opposite of her usual self.”  
Jean-Luc had provided hot drinks for his guests and Deanna paused to sip hers. It was now tepid but she didn’t seem to notice.  
“After I’d administered the hypospray, she quickly reasserted her usual personality. Wary, defensive, yet obliquely aggressive. She did her best to control her emotions, but they were simply too powerful and from what I sensed, consuming.  
“It was the final shift that alarmed me and made me fear for my safety. In an extraordinary display of mental discipline, she completely shut down her emotions and became absolutely cold. To me it felt like a void. It was terrifying. Her manner became watchful and calculating...it was like facing a coiled snake that was about to strike. I knew, without a doubt, that if I didn’t leave immediately, my life would be taken.”  
Jean-Luc was shocked and it showed in his voice.  
“Counsellor!”  
“It’s true, Captain. She’s very, very dangerous.”  
Having come to his feet, Jean-Luc rounded his desk and sat heavily. He picked up his crystal shard but just as quickly tossed it back on the desktop. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath.  
“Each of us has the authority to request she be taken into custody but, as her Captain, I believe it’s my responsibility. Doctor...” He directed his gaze at Beverly. “Would it be wise to have her sedated?”  
“Probably.” Beverly turned to Deanna. “How do you think she’s going to react when the order is carried out?”  
“Given that she already views the Captain as her main rival for your affections, my guess is...violently. It seems to be what she always resorts to when she is put under pressure.”  
Beverly looked over at Jean-Luc and he saw the alarm and deep worry in her eyes.  
“It doesn’t have to be you, Jean-Luc. Let me do it. She might find it easier coming from me.”  
He shook his head.  
“No, Beverly.” His voice was low and carried his determination. “I should’ve acted on this woman’s behaviour a long time ago. She should never have made it through the Academy, she should never have been posted to this ship and she never should’ve had the opportunity to influence the lives of those around her, including yours and mine. It’s been my mistake and I will rectify it.”   
He stood, bringing the meeting to an end. The women filed out but Beverly glanced over her shoulder. Jean-Luc was back at the viewport, hands behind his back, but his head was bowed and his shoulders slumped. Not even the stars could lift his spirits.


	2. Burning The Edges Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as Pt. 1

Whatever else she was, Meredith was above all cunning. She knew precisely what she’d done and what the reaction would be. Somewhere inside her, so deeply buried that she barely acknowledged it, there was a feeling of relief that soon it would all be over and the terrible hunger, the primal yearning would finally ease and she would find peace.  
But that wasn’t what was in the forefront of her mind. What consumed her in the present was how to extricate herself from her current precarious situation. Typically, her thoughts centred around the use of violence. In particular, how to employ it to affect her escape. A vague plan was forming involving the use of a hostage...or hostages...and a shuttle. She was reasonably certain if she could take a hostage of sufficiently high rank, her chances of success would be significantly raised.  
“Stupid fuckers.” She thought savagely. “They put the value of a life above anything else. That will prove to be very helpful to me. I couldn’t give a flying fuck about their precious principles. As long as I get what I want, I don’t care who gets hurt ...or killed.”  
Kicking her way through the debris that littered the floor of her quarters, she found what she was looking for.  
It was a d’ktahg, the personal weapon of choice of the Klingons. She picked it up and drew it from its scabbard. By pressing a button near the hand guard, two small blades flicked out at an angle to the main blade, a wicked twenty centimetre long steel knife, sharpened to a razor keenness and coming to a deadly point. The centre of the blade was missing allowing the weapon to inflict even more damage on the unfortunate recipient of its cold stab.  
Meredith had dressed in civilian clothing and combed her hair. Taking a seat in the living area, she idly hefted the d’ktahg while she solidified her plans for escape.   
When the chimes sounded she was momentarily shaken, but that quickly vanished and the rat-cunning took its place. Sliding her hands, one gripping the handle of the knife, into the side pockets of her loosely fitting top, she arranged he features into something bland and unthreatening and went to the door. It was important to take the initiative and not allow anyone into her quarters. If her plan was to succeed she had to have the element of surprise on her side.  
Readying herself, she opened the doors. Standing in front of her and flanked by two armed guards stood the bastard himself. Captain Jean-Luc fucking Picard.   
“Oh yes,” She thought triumphantly. “It just doesn’t get any better that this!”  
His face set and his posture perfect, Jean-Luc opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a rush of air in a soft grunt. At first he thought Meredith had punched him in the stomach, but her hand was gripping his shoulder and pulling him forward and whatever was intruding into his belly suddenly began to hurt.   
Meredith’s face was near his ear and despite the quickly blossoming agony in his stomach he heard her say,  
“If you want him to live, back off, or I’ll push this fucking knife right through him until it pokes out his back.”  
Still bent over and trying to get his breath, Jean-Luc’s mind screamed,  
“You underestimated her!”  
She must’ve turned her head slightly, because when she spoke again, he felt the warmth of her breath against his ear.  
“You’re going to walk backwards, Picard. Don’t think you can be a fucking hero, ‘cause if you give me any trouble, I’ll slit your fucking throat. Are we clear?”  
All he could do was nod.  
“Right!’ She said cheerfully. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

 

The first thing Beverly knew that something was very wrong was when the red alert siren sounded and she knew, she just knew Jean-Luc’s life was in jeopardy. But without any information and with standing orders precluding her from leaving sickbay during such an alert, unless summoned, she could do nothing but wait.  
The call came from Will only seconds later.  
“Riker to Crusher!”  
His tight, grim tone only added to her dread.  
“Crusher here, go ahead.”  
“We have a situation, Doctor. Meet me outside shuttle bay three immediately. Riker out.”  
She was out the doors before Will had finished.

What Meredith instructed him to do was exceptionally difficult and caused such agony he didn’t think he could successfully comply.  
With her hand, tightly gripping the handle of the d’ktahg pushed hard into his stomach, he was bent over and she kept him like that by keeping her hand on his shoulder to constantly pull him forward. In that awkward stance she expected him to shuffle blindly backwards. If he went too slowly, she pushed the knife deeper into his belly. If he tried to go faster, he risked stumbling and falling backwards and each movement of his body, no matter how small, caused the sharp blade to cut him internally. He felt the slicing and had to swallow as bile rose in his throat.  
Time began to blur for Jean-Luc and sweat trickled into his eyes. Twice he’d summoned enough breath to try to reason with Meredith, but her only reaction was to twist the knife. He gave up for the time being, hoping another opportunity would present itself, provided he stayed conscious.  
The only way he knew they’d reached their destination was when his back collided with a wall. The sudden stop caused the knife to go deeper and he groaned softly. Meredith brought her mouth to his ear.  
“Oh, I like that!” She still used the same eerily cheerful voice. “I bet you groan like that when you fuck Beverly. Does she groan too? Or does she scream? I could make her scream. In fact, once I fucked her, she’d never go back to you!” She crowed happily. “I bet she...”  
Whatever it was she was going to say was cut off by Will’s curt order.  
“Step away from Captain Picard!”  
Meredith lifted her head and all pretence of cheerfulness vanished.  
“Shut the fuck up, Riker! I’m in charge here! You do as I say or your fucking Captain will be sliced to ribbons!”  
Turning his head slightly Jean-Luc strained to see what was going on. He knew by now they were at the doors to a shuttle bay, but he didn’t know which one. The hand that gripped his shoulder tightened and he was pulled roughly forwards while the hand that held the knife was shoved into him. The message was clear. Somehow he got enough air into his lungs to call out,  
“Do as she says!”  
Beverly was standing to one side of Will and stepped forward addressing herself to Meredith.  
“You don’t need to do that.” She deliberately kept her voice soft and her expression one of gentleness.  
Beverly stepped past Will, shaking off his hand when he’d tried to stop her. His muttered, “Beverly!” Made her give a surreptitious shake of her head. Just before she was out of earshot, she whispered urgently,  
“Play along!”  
Now in no-man’s-land, between Will and Meredith who still cruelly twisted the knife, Beverly smiled warmly and inched closer. Meredith and Jean-Luc were standing near the door tab, but Will had used the computer to lock out the controls. Meredith knew this was where he’d make his stand. Although the captain’s safety was his first priority, he had to prevent Meredith from leaving the ship. He was aware the captain would give his life to stop her.  
As Beverly slowly got closer, she understood what was at stake.   
“Meredith, this is all so unnecessary. We...you and I...we can work this out, can’t we?”  
Suspicion made Meredith squint.  
“What the fuck are you talking about?”  
Keeping her smile in place was becoming increasingly difficult. Beverly felt her facial muscles begin to twitch.  
“Oh, come on, Meredith, you know perfectly well what I’m talking about.”  
“No I don’t.” Her tone had changed. The open aggression had altered to wariness. “What do you mean?”  
Still moving centimetre by centimetre, Beverly was closing the gap.  
“You and me.”  
“What about you and me?”  
Making her smile coy, Beverly lowered her lashes until she was giving an obvious come-on. She didn’t believe it when Meredith took the bait.  
“I knew it! I fucking knew it!”  
Now only a metre away Beverly could hear Jean-Luc’s laboured breathing and soft moans of agony and see the drips of his blood joining to form a small puddle.  
“Yeah,” She said shyly. “I didn’t want him to know.” A very good expression of guilt formed on Beverly’s face.  
“That’s okay!” Meredith said eagerly. “We can leave the ship...go somewhere, just the two of us. I’ll make you so fucking happy! You’ll forget him...” She glanced scornfully at Jean-Luc’s bent form and chuckled. “In fact, why don’t I just finish him? That way, we can start with a clean slate.”  
Half a metre separated them now.  
“Is that what happened with Elsie?”  
Meredith’s face darkened and Beverly quickly moved to bring her away from aggression and back to happiness.  
“I only mention her because...I was jealous.”  
Meredith’s smile was slow in emerging, but when it appeared Beverly knew she had her again.  
“Oh, I’m sorry, Beverly. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Elsie was just a fuck buddy, I mean, she didn’t mean anything to me.”  
“So you...killed her.”  
“Yeah. She was, you know, getting on my nerves.”  
Beverly was now within easy reach. Her hands were in the pockets of her lab coat and in her right hand she gripped a hypospray loaded with a powerful sedative. If she could inject Meredith, she’d drop like a stone. But, if she moved too soon, Meredith could use the d’ktahg to kill Jean-Luc. So, Beverly used the only weapon she could. Her potent sexuality.  
Meredith watched as if in a trance as Beverly moved right up close, placed her left hand on her cheek and kissed her deeply. As Meredith’s eyes drifted closed, Beverly brought up her right hand and, opening her mouth wider to invite Meredith’s tongue deeper inside, she injected her.  
Meredith’s eyes snapped open and she gasped. Instead of dropping as Beverly thought she would, she had enough time to snarl and shove the knife violently forwards and up. Then her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed.  
Without anything to support him, Jean-Luc sank to his knees and toppled forwards to lie curled over the knife in the puddle of his blood. Beverly knelt by his side as Will called urgently for an emergency transport to sickbay.

 

The next day Jean-Luc was reclining against the pillows in the bed in his private room in sickbay. On the shelf beside the bed rested the d’ktahg having been successfully removed during the long surgery to repair the damage it’d wrought.  
Will and Data stood at the foot of the bed, while Beverly hovered. Jean-Luc was pale and still receiving painkillers, but he’d got away with it once again. Taking a deep breath, he winced.   
“Sore, Captain?” asked Will solicitously.  
“A little. Just residual tenderness.” Will noted his captain’s voice lacked its natural timbre.   
“He sounds beat.” Thought Will. “Dammit, it was too damned close for comfort.”  
“So,” Said Jean-Luc. “What did you find, Mr. Data?”  
“The sickbay logs had been tampered with, Captain. Between the time indexes you stipulated, the log had been erased and an earlier recording put in its place on a continuous loop. To the untrained eye, it appeared nothing had happened, that Lieutenant Bower had been at her post the entire time, when in fact, she had left the lab via the Jeffries Tube.”  
“So, she was responsible.”  
“No, Sir.”  
Jean-Luc’s gaze sharpened.  
“Data?”  
“Lieutenant Bower was not responsible, Captain. At least, not for tampering with the log.”  
“Then who?”  
“I do not know, Captain.”  
“How can you be so sure, Data?”  
“Lieutenant Bower lacked the skill and knowledge to successfully carry out such a complex operation, Captain. I have made exhaustive enquires, sir. There is no way she could have done it.”  
Jean-Luc’s face showed his unwillingness to believe what he was being told.  
“But that only leaves Lieutenant Greensale.”  
“Yes, Captain.”  
“Are you saying she did it?”  
Data tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.  
“If what I have been told is true, she did posses the necessary skill and knowledge, sir, but as yet, I have no proof.”  
“If she were responsible....she inadvertently orchestrated her own murder.”  
“It would seem so, Captain.”  
Will folded his arms over his broad chest and sighed.  
“Poor woman.”  
Brought out of his grim thoughts, Jean-Luc looked up and asked,  
“Lieutenant Bower?”  
“In custody, sedated and awaiting transport to star base seventeen.”  
“Was her confession caught on vidcom?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Beverly bustled in her blue coat flapping.  
“Enough, gentlemen! My patient needs to rest.”  
Sending Jean-Luc smiles and receiving a rueful one from him in return, Beverly ushered Will and Data from the room.  
She came back in on her own.  
“How do you feel...and don’t you dare say fine.”  
He smiled and shook his head.  
“I am fine, but I admit I feel a little sore and tired.”  
A few minutes later a pain free and sleepy Jean-Luc settled into the now flat bed. As he drowsily closed his eyes, Beverly’s smile faded and she closed her eyes tight.  
“Jesus, Jean-Luc. Why? Why you?”   
Although the words had been whispered, Jean-Luc heard them. He roused himself, battling against the sedative he’d been given. Looking through slitted lids, he said huskily,  
“Because I’m the Captain, Beverly. I’m responsible.” Unable to stave off sleep, his eyes closed and his body relaxed. This time he didn’t hear Beverly’s distressed sob.

 

Meredith’s transfer was uneventful, She was unconscious and in restraints throughout the entire procedure. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the shuttle carrying Meredith and a security detail left and set course for the star base.

Jean-Luc was off duty for a week, then allowed back, but on reduced hours. He was seated on the Bridge only twenty minutes before the end of his shortened shift when a call was received from star base seventeen. The news shocked everyone.  
Meredith Bower had escaped.

At Jean-Luc’s request, the senior staff were gathered around the long, curving table in the Observation lounge just aft of the Bridge. Their faces were grim and their muttered conversation angry. Although Jean-Luc wore his customary unreadable expression, inside he was very disturbed. Gently tapping his finger on the tabletop to stifle the low murmurings of his staff, he turned his attention to his security chief.  
“Report, Mr. Byan.”  
The Bolian had a PADD laid on the table in front of him, but as he’d read the relevant information several times, he didn’t need to refer to it.  
“On arrival at star base seventeen, Lieutenant Bower was placed in custody in the detention cells and allowed to regain consciousness. She was informed that her stay at the base would be approximately seven days, as her transfer to a long-range supply ship on its way back to Earth wasn’t considered a priority. The next day, the process of psychiatric counselling began and, to all intents and purposes, proceeded without incident. Bower is reported as being calm and in control of her emotions. She exhibited no aggressive behaviour.”  
“Where did the counselling take place?” Will asked.  
Byan glanced at the exec and replied,  
“At first, the star base’s Counsellor sat outside the cell, but after two days, he felt it was safe enough to enter. There were two armed guards present at all times. However, on the afternoon of the fourth day, Bower was permitted to attend treatment in the Counsellor’s office.”  
“Idiots!” Grumbled Will, earning a look of mild rebuke from his captain. “Go on, Commander.” Jean-Luc invited.  
“On the morning of the seventh day...”  
Again he was interrupted.  
“How many times a day was she receiving treatment?” Will was obviously annoyed.   
“Twice daily, sir.” Answered an unruffled Byan.  
Jean-Luc didn’t need to say anything, his pointed look spoke volumes. Byan gave a curt nod and continued.  
“On the morning of the seventh day, as she was being taken from her cell, she launched an unexpected and unprovoked attack on the duty officer, a young Ensign of limited experience. Before her guards could react, Bower had broken the Ensign’s neck and relived him of his weapon. The fragmented vidcom recordings of the incident show she received a phaser blast, but it was a glancing shot and not powerful enough to incapacitate her. A short fire fight ensued and both guards were killed.”  
“Obviously she had no qualms about using the kill setting, unlike her guards.” Will muttered darkly. Then he growled, “Whose bright idea was it to order the guards to use such a low setting?”  
“Counsellor Tyban, sir. And, Commander, I think I should point out that Counsellor Tyban is a civilian. He is on the star base in an exchange program with a private consortium whose members have interests in SFM.” Byan watched as the faces around the table darkened with anger. He concentrated on his report.   
“To the hastily convened inquiry held after Bower’s escape, Tyban justified his decision by stating that Bower had shown no aggression and by her own admission, no longer felt any disturbing emotions. She seemed to fully accept not only what she’d done here on the Enterprise, but that her behaviour, especially towards Doctor Crusher was irrational and delusional. Under those circumstances, Counsellor Tyban considered her to be of little threat.”  
“Jesus!” Blurted Beverly. “How many people needed to die before the fool recognised the truth about her?! Bower brutally and cold-bloodedly murdered Elsie Greensale for no better reason than she’d become an inconvenient liability and she showed absolutely no compunction in almost killing the Captain! How much proof did Tyban need? The woman is certifiably insane. Criminally so!”  
“Doctor...” Jean-Luc said mildly, his reproving look silencing the angry woman.  
Byan sighed. “I agree with you, Doctor Crusher, but in light of what’s happened, I’m afraid it’s all hind sight. In retrospect, perhaps we should’ve kept her here until such time as she could be taken directly to a psychiatric facility on Earth.”  
Jean-Luc frowned. “Why do you say that, Commander? Surely the most prudent thing was to get her off the ship as quickly as possible.”  
“Yes, Captain.” Said Byan respectfully. “But Lieutenant Bower is particularly cunning, sir. She is able to easily manipulate people, even those who are trained to recognise when that is being attempted and she is capable of controlling her emotions making it very difficult to accurately gauge or even predict her state of mind.”  
“It’s true, Captain.” Deanna’s voice was soft and laced with sadness. “We underestimated her, sir and Counsellor Tyban made the exact same mistake. People like Meredith Bower exist under our conscious radar; they very early in their lives develop the ability to hide in plain view. And their psychological disorder may not fully emerge for years, if at all. It may be latent, only showing itself when an event or a particular experience triggers it. If not for her fixation on Doctor Crusher, Bower may well have gone on for years without exhibiting anything other than what those around her saw as odd character traits.”  
“Her remoteness...her reluctance to work in groups...her sexual aggressiveness?” Jean-Luc said thoughtfully.  
“Yes, sir. When we finally realised what was happening, it was too late. For whatever reason or by what trigger, Meredith Bower had tipped. Her precarious balance was gone.”   
Beverly sighed and shook her head.  
“But was it inevitable that she would fall into criminal behaviour? I mean, isn’t it just as likely that she would fall into something more benign?”  
Deanna tilted her head and gave the question appropriate consideration. Eventually she said,  
“In someone else, it’s possible, I suppose, but in Bower’s case I can’t see how she could go any other way. She’d already been exhibiting aggression, albeit controlled, in her sexual interactions. It was inevitable, I’m afraid.”  
Will shook his head and was about to argue when Jean-Luc again gently tapped his finger on the tabletop.  
“We digress. Mr. Byan?”  
The big Bolian nodded.  
“There are only three recorded sightings of Bower once she escaped the detention cells. Apparently there was a level one diagnostic of the entire vidcom system under way. It has been suggested that Bower was aware of this, in fact she may have been instrumental in causing it, and used the resulting lapses in the security systems to her advantage.”  
He glanced down at the PADD, knowing his next words would further upset the group.   
“Three more Starfleet members and one civilian were killed before she left the star base in a stolen shuttle.”  
“And just how was she able to do that?” Will was outraged.  
“The same question was asked at the inquiry, sir. Later investigation revealed she had utilised the disruption in the security systems to circumvent the computer controls. Once she’d achieved that, it was relatively easy for her to bypass the launch protocols. She had already left the base before any alarm was raised.”  
Jean-Luc was incredulous.  
“Are you telling me there was no alert once she’d escaped from the detention cells?”  
“Yes, sir. No one knew, not even when she killed the others to get into the shuttle bay.”  
“How is that possible? Surely someone raised the alarm? You’re telling me an escapee from the most secure area of a star base ran rampant through the base, killed six people, stole a shuttle and left completely unobserved? I’m sorry, Mr. Byan, but I find that very hard to believe!” It had taken quite an effort on Jean-Luc’s part to keep his rising anger out of his voice.  
To his credit, Byan didn’t take it personally, although his diffident shrug brought a disapproving look from his captain.  
“I don’t know what to tell you, sir. The inquiry has raised some very grave concerns about the security protocols, and most certainly there was a deplorable level of laxity, but it has to be said that the level one diagnostic in progress at the time was a significant contributing factor.”  
Calming himself, Jean-Luc interlaced his fingers and rested his hands on the tabletop.  
“You mention the possibility that Bower may have been responsible for the diagnostic being run in the first place. Can you elaborate?”  
Raising his pale eyebrows, Byan shrugged again.  
“It has been speculated that Bower somehow gained access to the computer grid whilst in Doctor Tyban’s office. While unlikely, it is possible she could have interfered with the system in such a way as to prompt the Security Chief to initiate the diagnostic.”  
“Two questions.” Will sat forward, hunched over his hands. “While with Tyban, did she have any opportunity to do it? And you say unlikely. How unlikely?”  
Pursing his thick lips, Byan tilted his head.  
“Tyban reports that on two occasions Bower was left alone. But he insists it was for no more than five minutes each time and he was in his office, but not in the same room as Bower.”  
“Jesus!” Spat Beverly.   
Byan glanced at her and sighed. “As to my opinion, it’s based on my understanding of Bower’s skill in how to manipulate the computer. We know she had enough knowledge to effect her entry and launch from the shuttle bay, but the kind of expertise required to make the computer send false information, especially concerning the security systems...I’m not convinced she could do it.”  
Data nodded, saying quietly,  
“That is consistent with what we knew of her. However, my subsequent enquiries after her departure from the Enterprise have uncovered some very interesting information.” At a nod from Jean-Luc, Data continued. “It has transpired that Lieutenant Greensale, through her relationship with a member of engineering, one Lieutenant Commander Asoki Miamoto, no longer a member of the crew, learned a great deal about the computer system, in particular, how to manipulate it. Lt. Comm. Miamoto is a computer specialist. In all probability, Greensale shared her knowledge with Bower.”  
“So Bower was responsible for the tampering of the sick bay logs?” Beverly asked. Data shook his head.  
“I do not think so, Doctor. I still believe Lieutenant Greensale was responsible for that, but I am convinced Bower had learned enough to effect the disruptions on the star base.”  
Letting out a short, sharp breath, Jean-Luc’s face showed his annoyance. Not with his staff, but the situation.  
“So! She escaped. The means don’t really matter now, I’m sure the star base will have learned a very valuable lesson. The most important question for us is...Where did she go?”  
Byan stared at his captain, trying to gauge his reactions.  
“We don’t know, sir. Part of the interference with the systems disabled the sensors. A belated search was undertaken and an ion trial was detected, but with so much traffic within the base’s precincts, it was impossible to pick up the shuttle’s trail.”  
Jean-Luc gritted his teeth.  
“What is the most up-to-date intel?”  
“Nothing new for three days.”  
“Three days!” Jean-Luc snapped sharply. “Merde!”  
Beverly pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.  
“She could be anywhere by now.”  
Byan nodded, then sat forward, knowing what he would say next would not be received very well.  
“Captain Picard, Doctor Crusher, in light of what’s happened, I think it would be wise to assign personal guards to you both. Armed guards.”  
Predictably, both officers shook their heads. It was Will who backed Byan.  
“I agree. We can’t risk it.”  
Jean-Luc’s look was withering.  
“You can’t honestly believe Bower would be so stupid as to return here? My God, that beggars belief!”  
Will’s gaze was steady.  
“Captain, she’s insane. Who can say what she’s going to do? You can’t ascribe rational thought to her.”  
“Still...” Jean-Luc wasn’t ready to give in, but he had thought Beverly was on his side. That was until she said quietly,  
“He’s right.”  
They looked at each other and Jean-Luc sighed.  
“Very well.”  
It was a victory for Will and Byan, but no one smiled.

 

Over the next four weeks, it was a very tense atmosphere that pervaded the ship and the longer the time went by without something tangible to deal with, the worse the tension became. Will hovered endlessly further irritating an already testy captain and the guards who were assigned to the couple became accustomed to being snapped at.  
Because there was a guard posted outside Jean-Luc’s quarters, it caused significant tension between Beverly and Jean-Luc. After spending their working hours being constantly watched, they both felt there was little relief within their quarters with the guard constantly outside the doors. The tension they both felt, already troublesome, began to quickly grow. What had started as mild bickering soon escalated over the ensuing weeks into full-blown conflict. After one particularly heated exchange, Beverly threw a mug of hot coffee at Jean-Luc’s head. He ducked, fortunately and it smashed harmlessly against the wall, but the sudden explosion of sound, accompanied by the mess of coffee and shattered crockery seemed to reach the warring couple and startle them out of their cycle of fighting.  
It was Jean-Luc who dragged his eyes away from the spreading stain of coffee to look at Beverly and say quietly,  
“We need to talk.”  
Keeping her gaze on the remains of the mug, Beverly nodded, but she was distracted when she muttered,  
“I thought that was what we were doing.”  
“No.” Jean-Luc shook his head. “What we’ve been doing is happily going about destroying what we have. We’re imploding, Beverly.”  
She turned her head and gave Jean-Luc a speculative look.  
“Why, Jean-Luc? Why did we do that?”  
He sighed and slowly walked across the room until he stood with her.  
“I don’t know.” He stared down at the mess. “With everything that’s happened, we seem to have directed our anger, fear and frustration at each other.”  
Beverly frowned and let out a forceful breath.  
“But that makes no sense! We should’ve supported each other, not turned on one another.”  
“I know.” He agreed. “Perhaps it’s indicative of how each of us coped with what happened? You were very upset about my injury and I was angry about not having done something about the situation with Bower when it first became obvious something was wrong. And now we find ourselves held virtually hostage on our own ship.”  
Beverly left Jean-Luc’s side and wandered over to the viewport. She stood still, hugging herself as she gazed at his reflection. Her need to put some distance between them worried Jean-Luc, but he was aware of Beverly’s ways and knew by her actions it was the only way she was going to be able to continue to discuss the matter.  
“So you’re saying,” Her voice carried caution. “That instead of dealing with our underlying anxiety we aimed it inward until it expressed itself by misdirected anger?”  
Jean-Luc shrugged.  
“What do you think?” He squatted and began to pick up the larger pieces of broken mug.  
“Jesus, Jean-Luc, I don’t know. That’s something you should be asking Deanna.” She snapped. Her testy tone belied the fact that she felt very vulnerable. Since entering into their current relationship, both of them had found there were times that tested the strength of their bond. Though nothing serious, it was a reflection of the fact that they had both been alone for a very long time, and were, despite making a concerted effort otherwise, set in their ways and both very opinionated. However, those times when they had clashed in the past were mere wrinkles and they had both realised were inevitable and not worth fretting over.   
So the potency and vehemence of their current difficulties was a very clear indicator of just how fragile their relationship had become. Jean-Luc realised this and so did Beverly, but being the people they were, neither was willing to make the first move to rectify the situation. It wasn’t a matter of ill-directed pride or even arrogance, it was far simpler than that. It was fear. Fear of the consequences of allowing such a dismantling of their very carefully constructed shells.  
Although neither had ever had a partner who knew them as each other did, and they were indeed intimate in every way, both held a secret desire to keep one part of themselves hidden. Perhaps it was a matter of self-preservation, or maybe simply habit, but until they found themselves facing the imminent destruction of their relationship, they’d never had to consider giving up the last remnant of their independence, the last bit of themselves.   
Beverly stared at Jean-Luc’s reflection, helplessness at what was happening; making her resort to her default position. Attack. She spun around and hissed,  
“Why the hell shouldn’t we be fucking angry?! We were both violated by that madwoman and you’re saying we shouldn’t show it? Shit, Jean-Luc! You might have success in denial, but not me!”  
Although expected, Beverly’s outburst confused Jean-Luc. He did his best to control his anger and kept his focus on picking up the shattered pieces of mug.  
“That’s not what I said.” He tried to be patient, but unfortunately his tone sounded condescending.  
“Well what did you say?”  
“I said that we were both feeling a great deal of anger, but instead of venting it outwardly and in a healthy way, we buried it and it festered until it began to manifest in deteriorating behaviour towards each other.”  
Beverly blinked and shook her head.  
“That is psychobabble claptrap! You’ve been increasing difficult to live with! I’ve just been reacting to your shitty moods!”  
“And you think you were any better?” He shouted and immediately regretted it. Taking a deep breath, Jean-Luc stood and in the brittle silence, went and deposited the handful of mug bits into the reclaimer. Risking her continued anger, he went to Beverly and stood behind her, looking at her reflection.  
“Beverly,” He said softly, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “If we can’t get through this, there’s no hope for us.” When she said nothing he continued. “Think of all the times we’ve been there for each other. The ups, the downs, happy times...tragedies. In all the time we’ve known each other, through everything we’ve shared the one thing that survived was us. Are we going to let this destroy what has taken a lifetime to build?”  
Beverly looked into Jean-Luc’s reflected eyes and said quietly,  
“Are you willing to let go, Jean-Luc? Are you really ready to give up, to finally give everything you are to me?”  
His gaze was steady.  
“Are you, Beverly?”  
She turned and Jean-Luc was struck by how naked her gaze was. Stripped bare, she looked into him and, for the first time in his life he felt as if someone knew him...really knew him and it made him feel weak kneed.  
“Yes, Jean-Luc. I’m so tired, it seems to me that most of my life I’ve been chasing something that was unobtainable and I did it for so long when I did finally catch it, I didn’t recognise it.”   
She chuckled but there was no humour evident and her eyes were filled with unfathomable sadness.  
“You were the prize, Jean-Luc, the ultimate gift, but there’s such a high price to pay for what we have.” She sighed. “But what’s the alternative? I thought we were happy. Didn’t you?”  
He nodded mutely, so involved in what she was saying he didn’t realise tears were flowing unimpeded down his face.  
“Yeah, but look what we did!” She sighed. “Talk about old dogs and new tricks. For all our declarations of love, for all our attempts at domestic bliss...it was all a veneer. I was hiding, Jean-Luc, hiding in our relationship, hiding from you. And you were hiding from me!  
“I’m tired, Jean-Luc and this business with Bower is the last straw.”  
He didn’t know why but he felt confident, as if something of great importance was about to take place. He even smiled while tears he was still unaware of continued to track down his cheeks.   
“Can you imagine just how powerful we will be now that we’re a unified force?” His voice carried his excitement. Beverly frowned and smiled at the same time. But she did give the question some thought.  
“A unified force? You realise just what it is you’re saying?”  
He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.  
“Oh, yes. For the first time in my life I’m giving up everything, Beverly. No more hiding, no more secrets. Everything I am is yours. I only hope you still want it.”  
If he thought his declaration would move Beverly to some expression of heartfelt emotion, he was mistaken. She gazed into his eyes and said quietly,  
“You’re forgetting something, Jean-Luc.”  
Tilting his head, his eyes narrowed.  
“And what’s that?’  
“That you have to accept me the same way. Warts and all, Jean-Luc. Are you ready for that?”  
He tilted his head back and laughed. Beverly gaped at him then abruptly she too began to laugh. What had begun as strange laughter quickly took on an almost hysterical, manic quality. Beverly slid to the floor and Jean-Luc joined her. They were clutching at their stomachs, tears squeezed from screwed-shut eyes, helpless. Just as the laughter had been sudden, so it abruptly turned into sobs. Jean-Luc reached for Beverly and they clung to each other as the emotional tempest raged.   
Eventually it passed, leaving the couple drained. Beverly moved to sit with her back against the low wall and pulled her legs up. While she hugged her legs, Jean-Luc adopted a similar pose, but rested his arms on his parted knees and let the back of his head rest against the viewport.  
The silence was a little uncomfortable and it was predictable that it would be Beverly who broke it.  
“What the hell was that about?”  
Frowning, Jean-Luc turned his head and asked querulously,  
“What? The...epiphany or the catharsis?”  
Beverly’s look was incredulous.  
“You’re going to use labels? Jean-Luc, I don’t know about you, but I feel as if I’ve been punched in the stomach. Words like epiphany and catharsis don’t quite cover it.”  
Picking at his thumbnail, Jean-Luc stared fixedly at his hands. “All right,” he said cautiously. “How would you describe what just happened to us?”  
Beverly thought about it for a few moments and then shrugged.  
“Due to a very complicated set of circumstances, you and I have been forced to admit each of us has been less than honest with each other...and with ourselves. But that’s okay, because in making that admission we’ve managed to finally cast aside our cynicism and find a way to not only repair the damage, but hopefully move forward.”  
Jean-Luc turned to her again, his look frankly disbelieving.  
“Cynicism?”  
“Well, yes. Don’t you think it was cynicism?”  
“What exactly?” He was clearly confused.  
“Us!” Beverly was obviously exasperated. “You and me! Like I said, we made our declarations of love, we behaved just as we should, but it was a veneer. We...”  
“Yes, I know,” Jean-Luc was shaking his head. “But how was that cynical?”  
“Well, wasn’t it? I mean each of us entered into this relationship with an agenda. Sure it was hidden, and maybe we were oblivious to it, but it was nonetheless real.”  
Jean-Luc sighed and briefly closed his eyes.  
“That wasn’t cynicism, Beverly, more like hypocrisy.” He sighed and stilled his restless hands. “Either way it was very damaging and I find it hard to believe we did it. For myself I feel betrayed.” He was quick to assuage Beverly’s hurt feelings. “Not by you, but by myself. How could I have accepted our relationship, accepted your love and still refused to be completely honest?” He shook his head as if trying to understand. “I waited so long, I pursued you for so many years and in all that time it never occurred to me that I wasn’t actually going to do what I’d always professed I would.” He sighed deeply. “That’s more than hypocrisy, Beverly, that’s downright self-delusion. And that is unforgivable!”  
He let his head fall back again and closed his eyes. Beverly let go of her legs and stretched them out. Softly she said,  
“You’re being very hard on yourself, Jean-Luc. I think you’re forgetting I’m just as guilty as you. I did precisely the same thing and probably for the very same reason.”  
Keeping his eyes closed, Jean-Luc asked,  
“And what is that reason?”  
Her eyebrows rose. “You don’t know?”  
“No. In fact, I would appreciate it if you could enlighten me, because the alternative is that I have to accept it was nothing but dumb, ignorant habit and that would mean I’m not so bloody evolved or as self-aware as I thought I was!” His voice was filled with scorn and Beverly grimaced.  
“You’ve already identified it, Jean-Luc.”  
He opened his eyes, turned to her and frowned.  
“I have?”  
“Yep.”  
When he said nothing more, Beverly smiled sadly.  
“Fear.”  
His mouth opened and his eyebrows rose.  
“Ah.”  
“Both of us have spent a long time alone. Even those brief love affairs we had with others only served to make us more wary and each time our hidden self, that little private piece we kept deep inside, retreated even further. By the time you and I finally began our relationship, we were so used to the way things were, neither of us were able...or willing, to change the status quo. I mean think about it. Before we were forced into admitting it, would you have really been comfortable with giving up everything to me? Because I can tell you, I wouldn’t have been. I would’ve felt...I don’t know...violated.”  
Jean-Luc gaped and Beverly held up one hand.  
“Okay, maybe not violated, but certainly vulnerable.”  
He thought about that and had to admit she was right, but that didn’t mean it sat well. He sighed and rubbed his face with both hands.  
“It’s very confronting, isn’t it.” He said softly.  
Leaning into him, Beverly let their shoulders touch.  
“You’re not the only one with an entrenched, well-established persona, Jean-Luc. It’s just as difficult for me.”  
Just what was in his expressive eyes was hard to define. He gazed steadily at Beverly and said quietly,  
“Can we change, Beverly? Can the damage be undone?”  
She smiled and Jean-Luc felt a rush of gratitude. It was, however premature.  
“I don’t know, maybe. If we can it won’t be easy, but now that we know, maybe we can get through this and reach the other side, stronger and closer. What is it you called it? A unified force? Perhaps it isn’t out of our reach and we haven’t broken anything irretrievably.”  
His smile was a little watery, but it carried his love nonetheless. He climbed to his feet and offered his hand. Beverly accepted it and rose awkwardly, rubbing her backside.  
“I’m going to dismiss the guard and order Byan to stand down. It’s time we put this behind us. Meredith Bower has taken too much from us already.”  
“Agreed.”  
The situation remained largely unresolved.

 

That night while lying awake, Jean-Luc laced his fingers under his head and stared at the ceiling. He was calm and relaxed, probably for the first time in weeks, but for reasons he couldn’t identify, he was unable to get to sleep. He was lying on his back, beside him Beverly lay on her side, facing away. In the silence her whispered voice carried clearly.  
“Can’t sleep?”  
He wasn’t surprised she knew he was awake, but he was curious to find she too had woken. Usually Beverly was able to sleep under the most stressing circumstances; it was an ability he’d long envied. Turning his head slightly, he whispered,  
“No. You?”  
Her legs shifted and she sighed.  
“I keep dozing, but I can’t seem to get into proper sleep.”  
The mattress shifted as Beverly, in irritated, jerky movements, moved onto her back, then spent a few annoyed moments fussing with the covers. Eventually she flung the top cover back and kicked it with her feet. Her actions had left her completely uncovered and Jean-Luc half covered.  
“Comfortable now?” Jean-Luc asked mildly while he adjusted the covers so he was once again under them.  
A grunt was her only reply. Silence followed. Then Beverly let her hand slowly creep onto Jean-Luc’s stomach to begin to gently caress him. He wasn’t sure he wanted what she seemed to be suggesting.  
“Beverly...” In his tone she heard his reluctance. Turning onto her side, she sighed and said softly,  
“Okay, but will you at least help me?” There was a sadness in her voice that dismayed Jean-Luc. He turned to her and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.  
“It’s nothing you’ve done, Beverly. I’m just not in the mood.”  
“I know, I understand, but will you..?”  
In answer he kissed her again and began to stimulate her. He knew when Beverly was like this what he would do for her would be quick. She sought only the physical release of built-up tension, not the intimate connection of lovemaking. Deftly he brought her to three orgasms, mildly surprised when he gained an erection in the process. Beverly’s eyes glittered when she discovered his tumescence. She took him in hand and stroked him watching him intently. He still didn’t particularly want to have sex, but his body seemed to have other ideas.  
Afterwards they lay on their backs, side-by-side, each staring up at the ceiling.  
“That was weird.” Beverly observed.  
“Yes.”  
“I don’t think I liked it very much.”  
“Me either.”  
“Maybe we shouldn’t do it like that again.”  
“No, not like that.”  
“Want to try again?” Beverly wasn’t really sure whether that was a good idea or not.  
“Yes. No. Maybe later.”  
“Do you think you can sleep now?”  
“No.”  
“Me neither.”  
Beverly left the bed then and light spilled into the darkened room from the bathroom. She returned soon enough and settled once again, on her back, staring up at the ceiling.  
More silence ensued. When Beverly spoke it was with uncertainty.  
“Jean-Luc?”  
“Hmm?”  
“You know I love you, right?”  
“Yes.”  
“And I know you love me.”  
“I do.”  
There was another protracted silence.   
“Then how did we get so screwed up?”  
His sigh was a deep one.  
“I don’t know.” He sounded lost.  
This time the silence was brittle.  
“Do you think we should talk to Deanna?” Beverly asked quietly. She heard, rather than saw Jean-Luc turn his head.  
“Seek counselling?” He said, warily.  
“Well, why not? We’ve made such a cock up of our relationship.”  
“...I suppose.”  
“So you think it’s a good idea?”  
“Can I think about it?”  
“Yeah.”  
Jean-Luc sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. When he stood and began to walk towards the door, Beverly asked softly,  
“Where you going?”  
“Sleep isn’t going to happen, Beverly, not tonight. I might as well work.”  
He heard the covers rustle as Beverly left the bed.  
“Me too.”  
Morning would find them tired and irritable. 

 

In her position as ship’s counsellor, Deanna Troi saw many people, usually for nothing more serious than work related issues or some other minor problem, so until she’d become involved with Meredith Bower, she’d not had a really serious case to deal with for some time. Starfleet took care when choosing personnel for starship duty. It took a special kind of person and the powers that be were acutely aware of the rigours of deep space and the effects of long missions so the people chosen had to be of stable and adaptive characters. This was especially true of the senior staff. For those who chose to make Starfleet their life and thereby achieving high rank along the way, the responsibilities that entailed required a very specific personality. Not only did these individuals have to exhibit the basic abilities needed for their assignments, but also the talent to command others. Some did it well, even easily, while others struggled or at the very least were less successful.   
So, although on the surface it appeared as if any ship’s counsellor might have been very busy, the fact was most had little of any importance to do.  
Meredith Bower was the exception to Deanna’s well-ordered existence. Not only had she proved to be Deanna’s most difficult patient in terms of her mental disorder, but the very fact she’d made it through the Academy and managed to be posted to starship duty...and on the Enterprise at that...had caused an unsettling pall to linger long after she’d been taken off the ship.  
Because of her empathic abilities, Deanna was constantly aware of the crew’s general mood and she was concerned by the tension and brewing unease that pervaded the ship and, due to her professional interest in the senior staff, she paid special attention to the ship’s captain and CMO.  
Their increasingly hostile emotions, more often directed at each other, dismayed the counsellor and through the days and weeks that followed the Bower incident (as it came to be known), she became more and more concerned about them. With so much tension on board, she couldn’t devote herself solely to her friends, but they were a constant refrain in the background of her mind.  
It was still early and Deanna had taken advantage of having no appointments, to go to her office to catch up on some reports. As she settled at her desk, she paused and gave herself a few minutes to concentrate of the captain and his partner.  
Deanna knew immediately something had changed. They were both awake, but although she easily sensed their irritability, there seemed to be some kind of underlying unease, almost like sadness. This was quite unlike what she’d been sensing form them recently. In fact, Deanna was so concerned she almost wished they were fighting, at least that would be an expression of some kind. What she was sensing now was tantamount to defeat or some kind of weird lethargy.  
Obviously something had happened. The problem was should she do anything about it? To act on what she sensed now would be admitting she kept tabs on them and that wouldn’t be taken very well, especially by the captain, a man known for his intense need for privacy. Of course he wasn’t so naive that he was unaware of Deanna’s methods, indeed he actively encouraged it because it facilitated her position and made the best use of her abilities but to be confronted over something so personal would cause a great deal of tension in an already delicate and unpleasant situation. And she had to take into account the fact that the relationship between Jean-Luc and Beverly was relatively new and came with a lot of emotional baggage so it wasn’t without the bounds of possibility that their current troubles might be simply teething problems, common in new relationships, especially in people in high raking, stressful jobs.  
In essence, it was a mine field, one that Deanna was reluctant to enter into. She decided to wait. She would continue to monitor the situation and hope that it would resolve itself. Somehow.

 

The cot on which Meredith Bower was lying was made of rough-hewn wood, as was the rest of the primitively built hut, the mattress nothing but a long bag stuffed with native grasses. She was naked and her body glistened with a light covering of sweat. One hand held a PADD close to her face the other gripped the end of a dildo which was deeply imbedded inside her.  
As her orgasm approached her expression changed little, perhaps her gaze intensified and her nostrils flared, but other than that she barely registered the climax when it washed over her. She lowered the PADD to her chest and closed her eyes.  
“Oh, Beverly. How he’s deceived you.” She whispered. “I know you love me. I know he has some kind of hold over you. I felt your love, Beverly; I felt it when you kissed me.”  
She lifted the PADD and smiled. Her madness made her eyes bright. A picture of Beverly filled the PADD’s screen. It had been taken at a function in the forward lounge and Beverly had taken pains to look her best. Her hair was freshly washed and its soft waves glowed in the subdued lighting. Her makeup was minimal and yet her best assets were beautifully highlighted. The fact that she’d gone to such lengths for Jean-Luc was something Meredith chose to ignore. In her mind, Beverly had presented herself for Meredith alone. Indeed, the escapee had inveigled herself into the lounge on a false pretext just so she could see Beverly and she wasn’t disappointed. In fact she was almost overwhelmed. It was with shaking hands that she’d taken the image covertly, the resulting picture so blurry she’d had to resort to computer assistance to render it clear and precise. Just after she’d taken the image her presence had been noted and she’d been asked to leave. Resentment and anger almost made her refuse, but she realised Beverly would be embarrassed if she made a scene, so she left. The image, however was hers to keep, no one knew she had it.  
Having set the dildo to operate automatically, she left it where it was and wrapped both arms over the PADD hugging it to her chest.  
“I won’t give up, Beverly, I’ll free you and we can be together. I promise.”  
She sighed as the dildo vibrated and gyrated.   
Around her, on every surface, even the ceiling, were enlarged images of the PADD’s picture. No matter where Meredith chose to look, Beverly’s soft blue eyes looked back, her expression one of tender love. What a pity she’d been looking at Jean-Luc at the time.

 

A week had passed and with Jean-Luc’s order for the extra security to be stood down, the Enterprise slowly began to return to normal. Everyone seemed ready and more than willing to put the whole Bower incident behind them and for the most part they did, except Jean-Luc and Beverly.  
Although they no longer fought or even bickered, there was an underlying unease they carried with them constantly. Whether or not it was exclusively pertaining to their fragile relationship or the lingering after effects of the Bower incident or some of both, neither knew.  
They were civil with each other, Beverly still lived in Jean-Luc’s quarters and they still wanted to be together, but something was stopping them from addressing their problem and the longer the situation went unresolved, the further apart they grew. They’d made one attempt at making love again, but it was a disaster. Jean-Luc, for the first time in his life, was unable to attain an erection and Beverly made the mistake of trying too hard to remedy the situation. It only served to make Jean-Luc more frustrated and humiliated. Eventually he left the bed in anger and disgust with himself, leaving a bitter Beverly to masturbate, leaving her feeling empty and filled with sorrow.  
Over breakfast, five weeks after Meredith had left the ship, Beverly propped her elbows on the table and stared at her coffee cup which she held delicately in her fingertips.   
“Have you given any thought to my suggestion?” She asked idly.  
Glancing up from his own inspection of his cup, Jean-Luc said mildly,  
“And which suggestion is that?”  
Still keeping her eyes fixed on her cup, Beverly said,  
“The one where I thought we should talk to Deanna.”  
“Ah.” Like Beverly, Jean-Luc kept his gaze lowered. “Counselling.” His tone was derisive.  
When he said nothing further, Beverly glared at him and said testily,  
“Well?”  
Finally looking at her, Jean-Luc’s eyes were dark and hard. He began to shake his head causing Beverly to slam her cup down with such force that the coffee slopped over the rim.  
“Dammit, Jean-Luc, we can’t go on like this!”  
His voice was soft, but he was angry.  
“I have no intention of airing our dirty linen in public!”  
Beverly gaped.  
“In public?” She hissed. “You make it sound like it’s going to be some kind of ship-wide announcement! For God’s sake, Jean-Luc, you know damned well we can trust Deanna. And it’s not dirty linen, it’s us!”  
He lowered his eyes and stared at his cup again, making Beverly lower her head to her hands.  
“Jean-Luc,” She made sure she kept her anger and exasperation out of her voice. “Do you think our relationship is worth fighting for?”  
“You know I do, Beverly, but I don’t necessarily agree we need help to do it.” His superior tone really irritated Beverly.  
“Well we’ve been doing a bang-up job so far!”  
Adopting a more conciliatory tone, Beverly lowered her hands and gave her lover a frank look.  
“Jean-Luc, if we don’t do something soon, it’ll be too late.”  
“You’re overreacting Beverly, it’s not that bad.” He had the temerity to sound condescending and Beverly, instead of feeling angry, felt overwhelmingly sad. She slowly got to her feet and said softly,  
“I’ve had enough, Jean-Luc, I can’t do this any more.”  
Without a backward glance, Beverly walked out of Jean-Luc’s quarters and out of his life.

 

The ensign sitting opposite Deanna barely noticed when she flinched. As the session progressed, Deanna’s senses picked up on the escalating emotions coming from the captain and his partner and the abrupt cessation had such finality about it, Deanna feared the worst. It was with some urgency that she brought the session to a close, apologising to the ensign and hastily arranging another appointment.  
Of the two people involved, Deanna knew it would be Beverly to whom she would go to first. Although the mercurial red head could be very obstinate when angry, at least she would eventually listen to reason. The captain, on the other hand, when dealing with deeply personal issues, would simply withdraw and refuse to discuss it. In fact there was a terrible irony to the current situation. If the captain, (and it was a big if) was going to discuss any personal matter it would be with Beverly. As Deanna hurried through the corridors she shook her head.  
“Damn. I thought they could do this, we all did.” She whispered.  
It was true. Jean-Luc and Beverly had been best friends for decades and everyone, friends and crew alike always felt they were meant for each other. They agonised over the relationship, speculating just what, if any, kind of relationship the Captain and CMO entertained. Gossip had been rife for years yet the couple always maintained a dignified silence, never giving any sign one way or another as to the true nature of their bond.  
When word quietly got around that they had finally become a couple, it was greeted with happiness. To those around them, it was as if something very right had occurred and the crew were justifiably smug in the knowledge that they had been right all along.  
So it was with sadness and some trepidation that Deanna entered sickbay. What struck Deanna most of all was the lack of emotion coming from Beverly. She was cold and still inside, devoting every gram of her inner strength to the attention given to the patient currently undergoing treatment. As Deanna quietly approached she saw the puzzled look on the young man’s face. His eyes darted from the injury Beverly was repairing, to the Doctor’s face, trying to decide whether or not to engage her in conversation. He knew Beverly well, he’d been on the Enterprise almost as long as she had and he was well aware she was usually very warm and friendly. Her present mood didn’t invite chit-chat. He gave Deanna a relieved look and quickly left once he’d been treated.  
Studiously ignoring Deanna, Beverly turned away, ostensibly to move to some other part of sickbay, but Deanna would have none of it. She reached forward and plucked the sleeve of Beverly’s blue lab coat. The Doctor paused, glanced icily down at Deanna’s hand and said quietly and with a hint of warning,  
“Not now, Deanna.”  
Deanna could be stubborn too.  
“I’ll be the judge of that, Beverly.” When she didn’t let go of Beverly’s sleeve, the Doctor glared at her.  
“Deanna...” She warned with increasing menace.  
Shaking her head, Deanna’s black eyes seemed to grow in size. “In your office, Beverly. Now.”  
As angry as Beverly was, she still understood Deanna wouldn’t give in. It was either acquiesce or cause a scene, one which would not only upset the smooth running of the facility, but give way too much fodder to the rumour mill. Gritting her teeth, she glanced pointedly at Deanna’s hand and once the counsellor had released her, she stalked across the room and into her office, followed at a discreet distance by Deanna.  
With the windows opaqued, Deanna took a seat in front of the desk, behind which sat Beverly, stiff and cold, bristling with indignation and resentment.  
Deanna’s opening gambit was undertaken gently, trying to calm Beverly down.  
“I know you’re angry,” She said quietly. “I’m not here to judge or take sides. You know that.”  
It took several very uncomfortable minutes before Beverly finally closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Deanna felt sorrow and loss coming from her best friend in waves.  
“Talk to me, Beverly. Tell me what’s happened.”  
Beverly’s derisive snort disguised her anguish, but Deanna felt it anyway.  
“I don’t know, Dee. It just sort of...crept up on us.”  
“What did?”  
Lifting her head, Beverly sat back and flapped a hand.  
“I don’t know.”  
Tilting her head slightly, Deanna accurately gauged Beverly’s mood and decided she could stand some harder techniques.  
“Come on, Beverly, I know you better than that. Stop hedging.”  
Anger flashed in Beverly’s eyes as she gave Deanna a long, venomous look. The counsellor showed nothing but equanimity, her calmness irritating Beverly further.  
“Don’t be so bloody smug, Deanna!”  
“I’m not being smug, Beverly,” Deanna said mildly. “I simply wish to cut through your bullshit.”  
Beverly blinked in surprise. Deanna rarely used strong language and she said it so matter-of-factly, Beverly was taken aback. Deanna crossed her legs and gave Beverly a measured look.  
“Do you really think I’m unaware of what’s happened?”  
“Then why ask?” Beverly said waspishly.  
Deanna almost didn’t answer, but she decided to play along.  
“Because, although I know what’s happened, I don’t know why it’s happened!” Her tone was mild, but her eyes glittered. Beverly had the good grace to look contrite. There were some moments of charged silence before Beverly let out a long breath.  
“I’ve left him.” Deanna matched Beverly’s defeated tone with the surge of sorrow and helplessness coming from her.  
“Why?” The counsellor asked softly, although she had a pretty good idea.  
Beverly sighed and rubbed her forehead.  
“I’m not sure.”  
“Yes, you are.”  
That garnered a hot glare.  
“I’m telling you I don’t know!” The more she insisted the more upset Beverly became. Deanna waited a few moments to allow her friend to compose herself. Quietly she said,  
“This has been building for some time now, Beverly. Over the last few weeks I’ve sensed escalating tension between you and the Captain, but it seemed to settle recently and I’d hoped you’d found some kind of middle ground. So, for this to have happened, something must have precipitated it.”  
“I don’t understand.” Beverly’s voice was small and lost.  
“Tell me what it is you don’t understand.”  
Beverly sighed and squeezed her eyes shut.  
“We had this...this...I don’t know. It was...Jean-Luc called it an epiphany, like a boil that finally bursts, you know? And then we experienced this weird...Oh God, I’ll have to quote Jean-Luc again, he called it a catharsis.”  
Patiently, Deanna said, “Beverly you are perfectly aware of what those words mean, especially given their context in relation to your situation. Why are you being so disingenuous?”  
“Maybe because I’m feeling petty and bloody minded!” Beverly snapped.  
Offering a frank look of mild forbearance, Deanna said calmly,  
“All right. For whatever reason, you and the Captain reached a point where you experienced an epiphany, followed by catharsis. What happened then?”  
“We talked.” Beverly’s shoulders had slumped and the sorrow was back. “While we didn’t actually reach a consensus, exactly, we sort of found some common ground. Later that night...neither of us could sleep...we had sex and it was really odd. Neither of us liked it.”  
She shook her head in confusion. “I’ve never experienced anything like it, Dee. We both achieved orgasm, but it left us feeling...I don’t know...empty.”  
She sighed again. “And ever since we’ve been getting more and more distant from each other. Our relationship was dying by degrees and neither of us was willing or able to do anything to stop it.”  
“And so?”  
Still looking confused and sad, Beverly said softly,  
“And so I left him.”  
“I see.” Deanna said. The pain she could feel coming from her best friend disturbed her deeply. Uncrossing her legs, she sat forward, clasping her hands on her knees.  
“Go back a bit, Beverly. What was it that caused the epiphany and catharsis?”  
A wave of guilt and hopelessness washed over Deanna. When Beverly didn’t say anything, Deanna said gently, “It’s me, Beverly. You know I won’t judge you.”  
Beverly believed her friend, but flushed nonetheless.  
“It was something we finally admitted to each other and it was very damaging.”  
“Your lack of complete honesty with each other.”  
Beverly gaped. Deanna smiled sadly.  
“Yes, Beverly, I know. I’ve known all along.”  
Beverly’s incredulous expression gave way to one of anger and resentment.  
“Then why? Why the hell didn’t you say something? You could’ve prevented all this!”  
Still smiling sadly, Deanna shook her head.  
“Do you really think it was my place to say something? Come on Beverly, you know damn well it was up to both of you.”  
Beverly just looked at Deanna as if she didn’t recognise her. Deanna sighed, feeling the strong emotions coming from her friend.  
“Beverly, it was never my place to interfere even though I knew what was happening would most probably lead to trouble. You and the Captain have known each other for decades! If you both felt you could have a relationship despite not enjoying total honesty, then who am I to judge? You know as well as I do that relationships can take all sorts of forms. What works for one couple might not work for another, you know that. I’m just a bit surprised that you and the Captain had the kind of relationship you did. From what I know of you both, I would’ve expected something different, but having said that, I may be prejudiced. Maybe I had preconceived ideas about you two? In that case, I’m at fault.”  
Beverly sat back and shook her head. Quietly she said,  
“So what do we do?”  
Pulling down the corners of her mouth, Deanna tilted her head.  
“That depends.”  
“On what?” There was wariness in Beverly’s voice.  
“On whether or not you want to save your relationship. Do you?”  
Staring at her hands, Beverly nodded slowly.  
“...Yes.”  
“All right. I think I can help, but it’s going to take some work. From both of you. I can’t help unless you both want me to.”  
Still with her eyes downcast, Beverly said quietly,  
“That’s why I left him. I’d suggested we talk to you a week ago. He said he wanted to think about it, but nothing more was said. I brought it up this morning and he flatly refused. So I walked out.”  
“Ah. Well, getting the Captain to discuss this is going to be difficult, but there is always the incentive of salvaging your relationship.”  
Deanna paused and her eyes narrowed.  
“You do still love each other, don’t you?”  
“Yes!” Beverly affirmed earnestly.  
“I only ask because you’ve both been so subsumed by your present difficulties, it’s been hard to sense much of anything else.”  
With a soft snort, Beverly shook her head.  
“You know, Dee, I thought I’d finally found the thing I’ve been looking for most of my life. Little did I know it would cause me so much grief.”  
Deanna stood and went to her friend, placing her small hands on Beverly’s shoulders.  
“Don’t think of it like that, Beverly, it needn’t be so painful. Look at it this way. When all this sorrow and pain are over, if I do my job right, you and the Captain will have the rest of your lives to explore what will be a brand new relationship, one devoid of any subtext. It’ll be unencumbered and unburdened...and totally honest.”  
Beverly offered a small smile of hope.  
“And no Meredith Bower to jam up the works.”  
Deanna chuckled softly.  
“You might find, a long way into the future, granted, that you owe Meredith Bower a debt of gratitude.”  
Beverly’s expression showed her disbelief.  
“Gratitude? Why?”  
“Because without all the trouble she caused, you and the Captain wouldn’t be on the brink of a new life together.” Deanna exclaimed with quiet confidence..  
Beverly snorted and by her expression and her hopeful emotions, Deanna knew she had turned a corner. From now on Beverly would do anything and everything she could to save her relationship with Jean-Luc.  
All Deanna had to do now was tackle the man himself. And that was no small task.

The following ten days had been long and difficult for Jean-Luc. He’d made no effort to contact Beverly; neither had she so much as looked at him. Outwardly he gave little evidence of his inner turmoil; indeed, to those who didn’t know him very well, it was business as usual, but his few close friends noticed the imperceptible signs that something was very wrong. Will, in particular picked up on these minute clues and made the inevitable mistake of being overly solicitous. He meant well of course, but his captain didn’t take it very well. After enduring three full days of Will’s perpetual hovering, Jean-Luc finally snapped and spoke unnecessarily harshly to his first officer. It occurred on the Bridge and in its wake there was a stunned and tense silence. It soon became so oppressive that Jean-Luc, by now regretting his outburst, retreated into the ready room.  
Unfortunately, the only result of the incident was to reinforce Will’s belief that something significantly bad had happened to his captain and that only served to make him even more determined to help in any way he could. It set in motion an irrevocable clash, one that would have serious consequences.  
Beverly had been to his quarters while he was on duty and removed all her possessions and had returned to living in her old quarters. He had waited the first night after she’d left him and when she didn’t arrive, he swallowed his grief and feelings of abandonment and spent the evening and the rest of the long first night alone, sitting in his lounge chair, staring at the stars. As he knew it would, sleep became a distant memory. He got by in the nights that followed on brief snatches of restless dozing.  
Deeply wounded and bereft, he retreated into himself. It was unknown when he would eventually resurface, if he ever would.  
Deanna hadn’t been idle. She had spent her time having several sessions with Beverly. She didn’t attempt to counsel her; that would come later, but used the time to gather as much information as she could about the situation. Knowing how difficult it was going to be to broach the subject with her captain, she felt it best to be as well prepared as possible. Thus armed, on the morning of the eleventh day after Beverly’s departure from her captain’s life, Deanna strode onto the Bridge, outwardly calm and confident, but she couldn’t quite quell the lingering feeling of unease. She’d been monitoring the man, well used to his moroseness and harsh self-condemnation so she wasn’t surprised to sense these things as she stood outside the ready room doors awaiting admittance.  
Jean-Luc didn’t know who was requesting entry, but he suspected it was Deanna. He’d been mildly surprised, but nonetheless grateful, when she hadn’t attempted to see him much earlier.  
It was with a sense of tired annoyance that he intoned,  
“Come.”  
Deanna found him predictably composed and calm. She had to give him his due, he was doing a commendable job of suppressing his emotions and she grudgingly accepted his stance. Even his measured, softly spoken, “Counsellor.” Gave absolutely no indication of any inner turmoil, although there was nothing he could do to disguise his haggard appearance and weight loss. Deanna offered a smile and asked politely if she could sit. Permission was granted, again with no outward sign of any disquiet.  
“How can I help you, Counsellor?” Calm, professional and cool.  
Deanna almost sighed and shook her head in exasperation. “Why are you bothering with this game?” She wondered angrily. “You and I both know why I’m here.”  
Instead she merely smiled, then adopted a gently concerned expression.  
“Captain,” She said softly. “I’m aware of your current difficulties. I believe you would benefit from some counselling on the matter.”  
There. She’d said it. It wasn’t out in the open yet, but it was a start.  
“I don’t think so, Counsellor.” Still no inflection. Still almost glacial.  
Over the years of serving together, Deanna had helped her captain overcome some brutally damaging psychological and emotional crises; in fact doing so had elevated her in the eyes of her fellow counsellors. Her resulting reports and papers on her experiences with treating her captain were the stuff of legend in SFM circles. It certainly set her apart. She wondered idly why it was he always fell back into the same pattern of behaviour. He knew as well as she did that the only way for him to recover was to undergo counselling. Is it possible, she wondered, that he has a latent wish for self-destruction? Does he want to be hurt...to be alone? Has this situation been somehow subliminally engineered? And if so, is he at all aware of it?  
Marshalling her thoughts, Deanna refused to be put off by his attitude. If she were correct, his next move would be to attempt to intimidate her. It had worked once upon a time, when she was much younger and not used to such powerful and dominant personalities. She sought to forestall him.  
“Captain,” She said mildly, “This isn’t going to go away, you know that. The only way you’re going to find any peace, either with Beverly or with yourself, is to talk about it.”  
The stiffening of his already rigid posture gave Deanna ample warning of what was to come. His eyes darkened and glittered dangerously, but she remained calm, at least outwardly, because even through his hastily erected mental barriers, she clearly sensed his quickly rising anger.  
“I will not discuss it.” Cold. Flat. Clearly enunciated.  
Deanna stood her ground.  
“With respect, Captain, I’m afraid you must.”  
Now his hands, which had been resting on the desktop slowly fisted until his knuckles showed white.  
“I see no reason why you should be so insistent, Counsellor. My private business has absolutely no bearing on my captaincy. Until such time as my ability to command is compromised, you have no right to ask or expect me to comply.” For the first time his voice carried the colour of his tightly held emotions.  
Now was when it became very tricky. Deanna had to balance her desire to help a dear friend against her duty as ship’s counsellor. As was often the case, the lines were blurred. The waters muddied.  
Maintaining her calm demeanour, Deanna said quietly, “My job is to monitor the mental health of the crew, you especially, and to treat whatever I find to be evident of disorder or instability. Beverly Crusher is the closest thing you have to a best friend on this ship and your relationship with her; or lack of it, by its very definition means she has a direct bearing on your mental state. Your current difficulties are affecting you, Captain. I’m not saying your ability to command has been compromised...yet, but can you honestly say the recent events between you and Beverly haven’t weighed heavily on you?”  
“No.” Cold and very angry.  
“Then, Captain,” Deanna braced herself. “You’re deluding yourself. If you are truly unaffected now, I can tell you from experience, it’s only a matter of time before you are affected. Are you willing to allow that to happen? Because when it does, I will relieve you of command.”  
His jaw muscles bulged as he clenched his teeth. Deanna sensed his immense effort to stay in control. Only the closing of his eyes showed just what a struggle it was. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and said succinctly,  
“I see no need for your continuing interest in what I consider a private matter between Doctor Crusher and myself. I would appreciate it, Counsellor, if you would mind your own business. It is not your place to tell me how to handle my private life or for that matter, by extension, how to do my job.”  
There it was. Refusal. Denial. Deanna sighed. It was so predictable, so very pathetic.  
“I have explained,” She said quietly, “Why this is not purely a private matter, Captain, because it impacts on your ability to command. I would be remiss if I didn’t compel you to attend counselling.”  
He rose slowly, at pace with his anger as it seeped out from between the walls of his mental barriers. Such was the force of his fury; Deanna closed her eyes and frowned as she was buffeted by it. Now standing behind his desk, his face was totally devoid of expression, but his darkly glittering eyes told Deanna all she needed to know.  
“Get out.” Softly said, but barely controlled. Frightening.  
The petite woman came to her feet and, displaying remarkable courage, stared boldly into her Captain’s eyes.  
“I’ll leave, Captain, but this is not over. You have an appointment with me later today, I expect you to keep it.”  
Deanna felt his hot, venomous glare on her back as she walked briskly from the room. Once outside, she ignored Will’s questioning look and strode straight to the turbo lift. It wasn’t until the lift doors closed and she was alone that she allowed herself to let out a long, shuddering breath. Her knees felt weak and she had an almost overwhelming need to sit down.  
It would take some time for her to regather her mental strength; such was the battering she’d just taken. But recover she must. Round two was looming.

 

For a full ten minutes, Jean-Luc stood rock-like and motionless behind his desk. Then, in a sudden blur of motion, he grabbed his monitor and threw it across the room with such force it smashed against the wall and broke into three pieces, falling to the floor and emitting an acrid odour. Still ferociously angry, he went to the replicator and ordered a glass of cold water. It duly appeared and he snatched it from the slot and took a long gulp, but as he stood, trembling with pent-up rage, gripping the glass fiercely, it abruptly shattered in his hand. He spat a particularly vulgar Klingon curse and glared down at his hand, which now dripped blood over the carpet. Giving the hand a quick, savage flick, all he achieved was to splatter blood and bits of glass over the surrounding area. He tried to rationalise his anger, but it escaped him, he could find no justifiable reason to be so furious. Yes, he was upset over what had happened between him and Beverly and yes, he didn’t appreciate what he thought of as Deanna’s insensitive interference, but the fury he was feeling seemed to be way out of proportion. He’d been through worse things, he told himself. All he needed was to be left alone. And time. Yes, he just needed some time to find his equilibrium.  
Faced with the unavoidable fact that he now had to present himself to sickbay only made him feel sick with more baseless anger. Clenching his teeth he growled and curled his damaged hand into a fist, which he drove forcefully into the wall. The added pain helped to centre him. He closed his eyes and regulated his ragged breathing. It took several long minutes, but eventually he gained control.   
Refusing to look at his hand, he replicated a handkerchief and wrapped it around the worst of the cuts. Then, quashing his humiliation, walked steadily from his office and to the lift, saying mildly,  
“You have the Bridge, Commander.”  
Will didn’t get the opportunity to reply, his Captain was gone.  
Beverly was in her office when Jean-Luc arrived. It was usual practice for the CMO to treat the Captain, but on this occasion Jean-Luc had quietly requested the nurse who first saw him to get the duty Doctor and not bother the boss. The nurse had heard the gossip concerning the pair and, although she obeyed Jean-Luc and summoned Doctor Leonski, she also went to Beverly’s office and quietly informed her that the Captain had been injured and had requested the duty Doctor.  
Beverly waited only a few minutes before slowly rising from her desk and going into the main room. There, standing at a biobed, his damaged hand resting under a bright light while the doctor worked on it was Jean-Luc. She took a moment to study him, noting his weight loss and the apparent tension in his posture. She silently debated whether or not to approach him, but in the end decided it would cause too much trouble. Besides, not only would she make her duty Doctor feel uncomfortable, it would provide a rich source of gossip for all the eyes that were watching with keen interest.  
She went back to her office, knowing she would be able to access his records to find out just what had happened to his hand. In the pit of her stomach she knew it was no accident.

 

It was sixteen-thirty, two hours past Jean-Luc’s appointment time. Although Deanna hadn’t said what time his appointment was, she knew all he had to do was ask the computer. She’d been monitoring him, but such was her mental fatigue after their earlier meeting, she was unaware of his uncharacteristic demonstration of his anger.   
She was about to summon him when she became aware of his approach. He seemed calm, but that said nothing about his real feelings. She was ready when the door chimed.  
Nothing was said as he entered. He walked straight in and took a seat, sitting well back in the chair and crossing his legs. Deanna sighed to herself. “Phase two.” She thought grimly. “Now he’s projecting controlled nonchalance. He thinks he can reason his way out of it.” She sighed again. “Oh, Captain. Why do you bother?” The inevitable predictability of his behaviour made Deanna sad. If only he’d just admit it! You’re hurting, you’re in tremendous pain! You feel betrayed and abandoned. You’re confused and lost. Why don’t you just say it! Why do you make it so hard? For both of us!  
Instead, Deanna was bound by convention and her knowledge of the man to go through the motions. It was tedious, but if she persisted she might have a chance to help.  
In keeping with the mood, Deanna said politely,  
“Thank you for coming, Captain.” But then she added tightly, “I had begun to think you weren’t going to come.”  
If her comment or her tone bothered him he gave no indication. He offered a cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes and said affably,  
“Well, under the circumstances, I thought it best.”  
Oh, yes, thought Deanna. Make it sound like it was your idea.  
To the captain, Deanna smiled, but like Jean-Luc, it was strained.  
“Would you like to tell me how you’re feeling?”  
He frowned but kept eye contact.  
“I suppose it’s true that recent events have caused me to feel somewhat unsettled, but I’m sure with the passage of time, I’ll regain my balance.”  
“Unsettled, Captain?” Deanna had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. What an understatement!  
“Really? I would’ve thought you’d feel something a lot stronger than that!” She narrowed her eyes and dug a little deeper. “You have waited a very long time for a relationship with Beverly. It must have been devastating for you when she walked out.”  
He shrugged diffidently, making Deanna grudgingly admire his act, but despise him for it.  
“These things happen, Counsellor.”  
“Still, Captain, it must be very upsetting. You had such high hopes for the relationship.”  
He shrugged again but Deanna both felt and saw his calm exterior slipping.  
“Perhaps we just weren’t meant to stay together.” There was an edge to his voice and Deanna picked up on it.  
“Why do you say that, Captain?” She asked carefully, keenly watching and sensing. “You two have known each other for decades. It’s not as if you were strangers to one another. I would’ve thought taking your already well-established friendship into a committed relationship was a logical step. Certainly there didn’t seem to be any reason why it wouldn’t work.”  
She watched as he took a deep breath, held it for a second or two, then slowly let it out. He was maintaining a grip on his emotions, but it was becoming tenuous.  
“Yes, well you may be right, but who knows how these things happen? The important thing is that we’ve made a clean break and I’m sure Doctor Crusher will feel as I do that with time, everything will be fine.”  
“I wasn’t aware there had been a clean break, Captain. In fact I don’t see any evidence of acceptance of the situation from either of you.”  
“Your point, Counsellor?” He was beginning to feel angry, his act losing its credibility.  
“My point is, Captain, if you don’t face what’s happened and address the cause, there’ll be no end to your sorrow or anger, no end to feelings of betrayal and loss. Do you want to keep feeling those things?”  
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
“I’m sure, with time...”  
Deanna interrupted.  
“You don’t have the luxury of time, Captain! This will fester and eat at you like cancer!”  
He bowed his head and closed his eyes. In the ensuing silence, Deanna said quietly,  
“Do you still love Beverly?”  
He didn’t look up and he barely whispered, but Deanna heard him clearly and she felt the emotion that was ripping him apart.  
“Yes. Oh, God, yes.”  
“And you know that Beverly still loves you?”  
“Yes, at least I hope so.”  
“Then I have only one question for you. Are you willing to try and salvage your relationship?”  
When he looked up his expression was so stricken, Deanna almost gasped.  
“Yes. If it’s possible.”  
The Counsellor gathered herself.  
“Good. I can help, Captain, but you’ve got to let me. I know you trust me and I know it’ll be hard for you, but with so much at stake, you’re going to have to let me in. You’ve done it before, you can do it again.”  
He nodded mutely and Deanna felt a melange of emotions rolling off him. Sorrow tinged with hope were uppermost. She knew that in his present state further counselling would be counterproductive. He needed time on his own to process what she’d said.  
“That’s enough for now, Captain. I want you to take a couple of days off. Get some rest if you can and we’ll talk again.”  
He nodded again and climbed to his feet. It was very rare to see the captain displaying anything but correct military posture but he seemed smaller and older, somehow bowed by the weight he carried.  
He gave Deanna a long, measured look and she couldn’t discern what was in his eyes. Indeed, she was unable to correctly identify his emotions either. He left and Deanna was left wondering just how much he was going to share with her.  
She sighed and bowed her head. “Well, I suppose that depends on how much he wants Beverly back.”  
As much as she wanted to help, she didn’t relish the coming weeks.

 

Deanna hadn’t seen Beverly for a few days, so the two women met in Beverly’s quarters to share dinner. The doctor was subdued, expected under the circumstances, but Deanna felt saddened by the drastic departure from her usual warm, friendly self.  
Seeing her two dear friends so deeply grief stricken made Deanna even more determined to do everything in her power to help.  
After the meal, of which Deanna noticed Beverly ate very little, they settled on the sofa and sipped a glass of wine. Deanna recognised the label on the bottle as coming from the Picard vineyards, but she refrained from mentioning it. As Beverly poured a second glass for herself, she finally acknowledged the bottle’s label and snorted.  
“You know, he’s everywhere.” She sighed, shaking her head and waving her hand. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping and every damned book I picked up, he’d given me!”  
Deanna smiled and tried to see if she could open Beverly up a little.  
“It’s inevitable, I suppose. When you’ve known someone as long as you’ve known the Captain, things like that are bound to happen.”  
“Yeah, I guess, but Jesus! It’s not as if I need reminding!”  
They were quiet for a time, each sipping their wine. Eventually Beverly asked softly,  
“How is he?”  
It was what Deanna had been waiting for.  
“About what you’d expect. Morose, withdrawn.”  
“Angry?”  
Tilting her head, Deanna asked carefully,  
“Why do you ask that? Why would you think he’d be angry? It’s not his usual reaction to emotional trauma.”  
Beverly didn’t answer immediately. She stared into her wine and contemplated her reply. With a sigh, she said quietly,  
“He came into sickbay day before yesterday. Lacerations and two broken bones in his right hand.”  
Deanna sat up, her eyes sharp.  
“Did you treat him?”  
“Oh, God no!” Beverly made light of it, but Deanna easily felt her hurt and sorrow.  
“No, he requested the duty Doctor. Brain Leonski treated him, I just read the report later.”  
“And what did he say had caused the injuries?”  
Beverly snorted, and rubbed her brow.  
“Our illustrious Captain didn’t give an explanation, Deanna. In fact he refused point blank. Poor Brian had to suffer the arrogant prick’s insufferable pulling of rank. It was left to Brian to speculate!”  
Beverly was using anger as a way to cover her anguish.  
“So what did Brian say?”  
“Self inflicted.” Beverly snorted again. “Can you believe it, Dee? He couldn’t raise enough emotion to save our relationship, yet he gets angry enough to hurt himself! Jesus!”  
“You don’t mean that, Beverly.” Deanna said softly. “You know him better than anyone. You know him, Beverly, you know what drives him. And you know just how desperate he must’ve been to resort to anything like hurting himself. But even so, I don’t believe it was deliberate. And I don’t think you do either.”  
Beverly drained her glass and reached for the bottle to refill it.  
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, but still.”  
Deanna decided it was time to redirect her focus.  
“You haven’t told me how you’re feeling.”  
Having filled her glass, Beverly sat back and let her head rest on the cushioned back of the sofa, balancing her glass on her chest.  
“How do I feel?” She grunted softly. “Numb That’s how feel, Dee, numb. Totally devoid of any feeling. And you know what? I think I like it!”  
“It’s normal and to be expected, Beverly.” Deanna said kindly. “You’re going through a terrible emotional trauma and your way of dealing with it is to hide.”  
“Hide? I’m not hiding, Deanna.” Beverly said derisively.  
“Aren’t you?” Deanna took the sting out of the question by smiling. “Beverly I know you. Please don’t try to deflect me. I feel your withdrawal.”  
Beverly took another sip of her wine and typically changed the subject.  
“So you’ve talked to him.”  
Sighing, Deanna agreed.  
“Yes.”  
“So what do you think?”  
“About what?”  
Deanna felt the fear when Beverly asked,  
“Is there any hope?” She tried to sound unconcerned but the fear bled through.  
“There’s always hope, Beverly.”  
That brought a glare and a flash of the old Beverly.  
“Oh, Jesus, Deanna! I expect more from you than bloody clichés.”  
Deanna’s soft chuckle made Beverly glare again, but there was no real venom in it.  
“Damn you, Deanna.” Beverly huffed amicably.  
They were quiet for a time before Beverly said softly,  
“The last time we tried to make love, he was impotent.”  
“Has that ever happened before?” Deanna asked cautiously.  
“No, at least not with me and he’s never said it’d happened before.” Beverly shrugged and pulled the corners of her mouth down. “Of course he’d probably not say anything about any past trouble in that area...”   
Deanna gently patted Beverly’s arm.  
“Let it go, Beverly, you’re over analysing. It doesn’t matter, does it? I mean, unless there’s a medical reason for it, I’d feel safe in saying it was probably due to stress.”  
“Yeah, probably...” Beverly said distractedly.  
“Beverly, you’re putting too much emphasis on it.”  
With a deep sigh, Beverly offered a rueful, sad smile.  
“I know, but it was our last attempt at intimacy. If we’re never to get back together again, I’d like to have a better memory than that disaster.”  
“Beverly, the last time we spoke you were feeling confident. Don’t lose hope! We’ve only just started.”  
Her smile was sad, but at least she tried.  
“I know, Dee. Don’t mind me, I’m just feeling a little depressed.”  
“I’m aware of that.” Deanna said wryly. Then she asked enticingly, “How about some chocolate?”  
Shaking her head, Beverly snorted.  
“You go right ahead. I’ll stick to wine, if you don’t mind.”  
Having failed at getting Beverly to join her in a chocolate feast, the sweet confection she’d replicated lost its allure. Deanna stayed only half an hour more before she left. Beverly had cheered up a little and the counsellor felt a little more confident about her mental state.  
As she walked back to her cabin, she sensed Will waiting for her. It brought a welcome sense of happiness and she quickened her step. They would talk and make love and by morning she would feel better. It was a great pity her friends couldn’t share in such a simple, human connection themselves.

 

An hour later, Beverly, lying in bed felt a deep sharp, quite severe pain on one side of her lower abdomen. It passed and she heaved a sigh of relief. It was the third time it had happened that day and she sighed irritably at the thought of having to have it checked out in the morning. Slightly tipsy from the wine, she fell into a fitful sleep.  
When Beverly didn’t report for duty next morning it was assumed she was taking the morning off, although it was most unusual for her to not inform her staff. Deanna had been monitoring her friend and frowned at the depth of Beverly’s sleep. Suspicious, she lifted her head and asked,  
“Computer, location of Doctor Crusher?”  
“Doctor Crusher is in her quarters.”  
“Is she asleep?”  
“Inconclusive data.”  
“Explain.”  
“Bio rhythms and brain activity are not consistent with any known form of sleep, however, indications are Doctor Crusher is not fully conscious.”  
Deanna didn’t hesitate. Taking off at a full run, she yelled as she flew towards the lift,  
“Medical emergency in Doctor Crusher’s quarters!”  
Using her override to enter, Deanna found Beverly semi-conscious in bed. She could smell the coppery odour of blood. Stripping back the covers, Beverly’s legs, nightie and sheets were soaked in gore. The medics arrived and very quickly beamed Beverly to sickbay. By the time Deanna had made her way there, Beverly was in the operating theatre.  
The diagnosis had already been made. It was an ectopic pregnancy. Not only had Beverly lost the baby, she had very nearly bled to death.  
Having heard the emergency call from the Bridge, Jean-Luc arrived soon after Deanna. He looked terrible, but he strode up to Deanna and asked,  
“Counsellor, what’s happened?”  
Gently taking his elbow, Deanna ushered him into Beverly’s office.  
“I’m not convinced I should be telling you this, Captain, but I found Beverly in bed in her quarters, lying in a pool of blood. She has suffered an ectopic pregnancy. She has lost the baby and almost her life. She’s in theatre now and I think it would be helpful if you were here when she wakes up.”  
Jean-Luc blanched and was trying to understand.  
“Beverly was pregnant?”  
“Yes, but she probably wouldn’t have known.”  
“And what kind of pregnancy was it?”  
Deanna sighed, this was so hard.  
“Ectopic.”  
“And that is what, exactly?”  
“That is when the fertilised egg doesn’t make it into the uterus, but sticks in one of the fallopian tubes. Ectopic pregnancies are rarely ever viable, Captain. Beverly’s body suffered a spontaneous abortion, but it invariably caused a haemorrhage. She very nearly bled to death.”  
“So she didn’t deliberately...”  
“No! As I said, she wouldn’t have known she was pregnant.”  
Jean-Luc sat so heavily the seat skittered sideways.  
“Was it my fault?”  
Deanna frowned in confusion.  
”I’m not sure I know what you’re asking, Captain. Are you asking if it was your child?”  
He looked up, his eyes sunken and haunted.  
“No, I’m thinking more along the lines of genetics. I am significantly older than Beverly. Perhaps my sperm is...”  
“No, Captain, it has nothing to do with your age, in fact a man’s age has no bearing on the quantity or quality of his sperm.”  
“Then why...?”  
“Just bad luck. It happens sometimes.”  
“What about her implant?”  
Deanna shrugged.  
“Beverly’s menopausal, Captain. She probably thought she didn’t need it any more.”  
“God. When will she be out of surgery?”  
“Soon, it’s a relatively straightforward procedure. The only thing that’ll keep her here for a while is the blood replacement.”  
Jean-Luc nodded, then seemed to have a thought.  
“Will this prevent her from conceiving again?”  
“Not necessarily, provided the surgery is uncomplicated. Her age would have to be taken into account and having experienced one ectopic pregnancy sometimes causes the propensity for another, but there are things that can be done to prevent that.”  
He seemed thoughtful and more engaged than she’d seen him in days.  
“Would you like to wait outside with me, Captain?”  
He shook his head, then said quietly,  
“I’ll wait in my private room. Have her brought there to recover.”  
Surprised, but pleased, Deanna nodded.  
“Very well, Captain.”

 

Each time the foul smelling, hideous alien shoved himself into Meredith, her body jerked up the ratty, bug-infested mattress. His grunting only added to her disgust for the creature, but he paid well and that was all that mattered. Unfortunately, the alien was capable of ejaculating several times before he was sated and each time Meredith had to leave the bed, wash her genitals and remove the protective, acid resistant sheath from her vagina and replace it with a new one. All the bodily fluids of the alien consisted of a strong acid. Her eyes were closed when she felt her shoulder begin to sting badly. Her eyes snapped open and she shouted,  
“Stop fucking licking me! You know damned well what it does to my skin!”  
He didn’t listen, too intent on his approaching orgasm. He grunted loudly bent his head and bit her shoulder so hard he drew blood.  
“You fucker!” Meredith shrieked. Placing her hands on his oddly concave chest, she shoved hard, wincing as his grotesquely shaped penis was pulled out. Not wanting to look at it, she hurried to the filthy bathroom and washed the bite wound with copious amounts of water. The water wasn’t exactly clean, but she had some meagre medical supplies and knew she could treat any mild infection. The most important thing was to wash off the acid.  
Knowing she had to return to the bed and the impatiently waiting alien made her very angry and that was always going to be very dangerous for her client.  
“Come on, bitch! I’m hard again!”  
Putting in a new sheath, she went back and as soon as she was within reach, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down.  
“I want to fuck you up your arse.”  
“No way you sick fuck. You paid for straight sex. No anal, no oral.”  
“Come on, I’ll give you two more bars.”  
It was tempting. Two more bars of latinum would be very handy indeed. She’d been making a lot of money the only way a female could in this settlement. On her back with her legs spread. Her current client was the eighth for that day and she was very sore. But the latinum was piling up very quickly. Soon she would have plenty enough for the next phase of her plan.   
Her train of thought was broken when pain lanced through her left nipple. He was pinching, too hard.  
“Come on, get on your knees and bend over.”  
“I said no!”  
Before she could prepare herself he shoved his penis inside her. Fortunately it wasn’t all that big but it had a bulbous head which flared to a large size as he ejaculated and along the top and underside of the shaft were nodules which exuded thick acid liquid that smelled putrid. These nodules rubbed Meredith raw and he pounded so hard he bruised her. He suddenly pulled out, making Meredith yelp, but when he tried to force his penis into her anus she lost any semblance of control.   
True to form, she went very quiet. Surprised she wasn’t struggling or offering any protest at all, the alien incorrectly assumed she was willing. He looked down into her eyes and she smiled a very odd smile. Had he known what she was about to do, he might have had time to escape. But he waited too long, lulled by her behaviour.  
“That’s it, bitch, open up for me.”  
Where the head of his penis was poking about was leaving spots of stinging skin, but Meredith barely felt it. She reached up, and spanned her fingers alongside his head, making him think she was going to draw him into a passionate kiss.  
“That’s more like it, baby!”  
Her grip of his head increased and he stopped poking with his penis.  
“Hey! Not so fucking hard! That’s my fucking head!”  
There was no way he could have prepared himself for what she did. Her thumbs pressed hard into his eyes and she pushed as forcefully as she could. He screamed and tried to pull his head back, but Meredith was remarkably strong. The drugs she’d been taking to increase muscle mass were working very well. Bright blue blood began to squirt from his eye sockets and his screams became louder. She increased the pressure and utilised her thumb nails. His eyes burst with a satisfying popping sound and vitreous humour dribbled down Meredith’s arms. Still she ignored the acid as it burned her skin. Shoving the alien’s body backwards, she reached under the mattress for her knife. All the women kept one nearby. A knife was the weapon of choice here and hers was wickedly sharp. With a quick swipe, she cut his throat and had to shake her head in admiration when he ejaculated as he died.  
Leaving the bed, she went to the dilapidated shower and washed as thoroughly as she could and removed the vaginal sheath. She then rifled through his clothing until she found the precious bars of latinum. His clothing was tossed casually over his body. The body she would dispose of later, in the dark of night. He would not be missed, no one cared here. It was a distant planet on the edge of Breen space, a refuge for criminals. It was a dangerous place where anarchy ruled and it was a case of look after yourself or die. No one else cared. Men outnumbered the women one hundred to one, so as long as a woman was prepared to spread her legs, the stupid males paid highly for sex. Of course they occasionally tried to not pay, but when a man has his penis cut off for trying to get sex for free, the message is pretty clear and an understanding is reached. After all, everyone had a scam. The women’s was prostitution.  
Meredith had been there for four months, since leaving the tropical heat of her last hiding place and she figured she could leave in maybe three more weeks, if business stayed brisk and there was nothing to suggest it wouldn’t. If her genitals hurt, too bad. Her vagina was making her very, very wealthy. Besides, while the men fucked her, she just closed her eyes and thought of Beverly. How her tongue had tasted when it was in her mouth. Its texture, its muscularity. The thought of teaching Beverly how to use that beautiful tongue carried Meredith far away from the rutting men. The fact that her current abode was so disgusting made her decide not to grace it with any image of her dream lover; it would only defile Beverly’s beauty. And what made her day dreams all that much sweeter was she remembered so clearly how fucking good it felt to have Beverly’s tongue in her mouth while she, Meredith Bower was shoving a d’ktahg into the gut of that piece of shit, Jean-Luc Picard.  
Oh yes, sometimes she got so aroused she nearly came, even with a man’s cock inside her.  
She went back into the main room and rolled the body in the acid proof sheet. Giving the room a quick once over, she satisfied herself there wasn’t anything too incriminating around. Nothing put a client off faster than seeing too much blood or other bodily fluids lying around. That would mean she’d have to work harder to get the fuckers erect. She shoved the corpse behind a curtain which hid the disgusting toilet, then combed her hair. Her next client was due in ten minutes. She didn’t even consider the fact she’d not worn any clothing of any sort for so long her nakedness was simply normal. Her clients expected it and it was convenient. The quicker the entire transaction took place, the quicker the next client could take his place, his latinum safely hidden away before he got anywhere near her body.  
She had known what she was in for before she’d even reached the planet. Subtle enquiries, muttered in the right ears and a few greased palms had led her to this place and she was ready for the reception as she got off the dilapidated transport. Word had been sent ahead. New meat was arriving.  
A fight had broken out between the waiting males, so many species, most Meredith had never seen before, but one thing they all had in common was a penis of some sort and a high libido, which, in the desolate settlement with so few females was rarely being adequately served.  
She’d been so...busy, two weeks had passed before she’d seen another woman. She was a Betazoid and was quite mad. Why she was there, Meredith had no idea, but one thing was certain, hearing the thoughts of the violent, lust filled men and being constantly fucked had led her into insanity. One afternoon Meredith watched as three males dragged her to the ground in what passed as the main street in broad daylight and repeatedly raped her. She was so far gone she didn’t even expect to be paid. Meredith doubted she’d last much longer and was proven right when the woman’s body was found dumped in what severed as the refuse site. It was only the smell of her rotting corpse that prompted two men to finally cover her body with a thin layer of soil.  
That night, lying in her filthy, insect infested bed for the few hours rest before resuming her job, Meredith snorted softly and shook her head.  
“Fucked to death. Shit, what a way to go.”  
Although Meredith had never had any sexual contact with a male before coming to the settlement, she had no trouble accepting her role as a prostitute, but she had harboured the hope that she might find a woman who shared her tastes with whom she could at least have some meaningful or satisfying sex with, but the few women who stayed simply had no spare time. Even those who were wanted criminals with a price on their heads, only stayed long enough to make enough latinum to move on. Certainly no women stayed there for the company.  
And so, as Meredith drifted off to sleep, having learned to ignore the ache of her genitals and internal bruising, she knew her dreams would be filled with images of Beverly, just as she knew she would get through the next day, the one after that and onwards sustained by the knowledge that what she was doing was going to assist her in her plans for a future with the gorgeous red haired doctor. And if in the process she managed to kill the fucker Picard, all the better. In fact, she mused sleepily, she just might do it anyway, just for the hell of it. Once Bevery knew the prick was gone for good, there would be nothing to stand between them.

 

The quietly efficient staff moved a sleeping Beverly into the bed in Jean-Luc’s private room. He had stood up from his seat to watch as Beverly, dressed in a blue Sickbay gown was made comfortable and the two bags of blood attached to a metal pole. His eyes travelled from the bags, tracking the tubes that ended in a cannula that was inserted into a large vein in her forearm. The covers were pulled up and Selar, who had overseen the work, checked the readouts on the large screen above the bed.  
Satisfied that all was proceeding well, she turned her attention to Jean-Luc. Before she spoke, he endured her frank appraisal of his appearance, but before she could offer any opinions, he asked,  
“How is Doctor Crusher?”  
Normally Selar would not discuss a patient with anyone but a family member or spouse but she was aware of the current situation and at least mostly aware of the history between the pair. Having sent Deanna, who was waiting patiently to one side, a quick glance and receiving a nod of permission, the Vulcan devoted her attention to her captain.  
“I take it you are aware of what Doctor Crusher has suffered?”  
Jean-Luc nodded, impatient for more news.  
“Yes. An ectopic pregnancy.”  
“With accompanying haemorrhage.”  
“Yes!” He said tersely.  
Selar clasped her hands behind her back.  
“Doctor Crusher has been fortunate. Not only was I able to salvage her fallopian tube, but I was able to correct the defect that caused the anomalous pregnancy.”  
Deanna stepped forward and said quietly,  
“There was a defect?”  
“Yes. It was fortunate indeed that her previous pregnancy had originated on the opposite side, which is normal. Had she had subsequent pregnancies, it would have been inevitable that an ectopic pregnancy would have occurred at some time.”  
“What are the long-term effects?” Asked Jean-Luc.  
“Physically there won’t be any, Captain. Once menopause is complete, Doctor Crusher will have nothing to show for what has happened.”  
“And psychologically” His tone was worried.  
“Doctor Crusher has just lost a child, Captain, although it was only a zygote and although some zygotes can be harvested and gestated in an artificial womb, hers was defective. I do not know why, I will be carrying out further studies on the cells. Nevertheless, I am aware of how human women can be adversely affected by the failure of a pregnancy, even one that was...unexpected.”  
Before Jean-Luc could say anything further, Selar said,  
“Captain, Doctor Crusher is not the only one to have lost this potential child. You must be upset as well. I suggest you avail yourself of Counsellor Troi’s expertise. You will need to be calm and gently accepting when Doctor Crusher wakes.”  
“And when will that be?”  
“Two, perhaps three hours.”  
“And how long will she be required to stay in sickbay?”  
Glancing again at the screen, Selar answered,  
“If there are no complications, and I expect none, then she can be discharged tomorrow morning.”  
“Thank you Doctor.”  
Selar heard the dismissal, but she was not going to leave before expressing her concerns.  
“Captain Picard, your health has deteriorated rapidly recently. By merely observing you I can accurately surmise you are not eating sufficiently, nor are you getting adequate rest. While Doctor Crusher is convalescing, I am acting CMO and I will not hesitate to relieve you of duty if I feel the need to do so. I would not do it as a punitive action, but as a gesture from a concerned colleague.”  
It was an extraordinarily open, even slightly emotional thing for Selar to say. Not the pronouncement itself, but the way she said it and as tired and preoccupied as Jean-Luc was, he recognised her attempt to talk to him in such a way as to make him hear her.  
He gave her a frank look, nodded and said quietly,  
“I understand, Doctor. Thank you.”  
This time Selar obeyed the subtle dismissal. Jean-Luc went to Beverly’s side and tentatively picked up her hand, staring at it sightlessly. Deanna moved closer and although she easily sensed his grief and worry, she said very softly,  
“Talk to me Captain. Tell me exactly how you feel right now.”

 

Beverly woke slowly, but even so she knew where she was. She even knew, by the slightly muted sounds and the large size of bed that she was in the captain’s private room. Deanna was aware of Beverly conscious state and waited quietly and unobtrusively out of the way while she silently observed.  
In the hours that she and Jean-Luc had waited for Beverly to waken, her captain had been remarkably candid. He’d told Deanna of his heartache over what he felt was Beverly’s desertion and confessed his struggle to find a way to broach the matter with her. He’d recounted how time and time again he’d gone to Beverly’s quarters to apologise to try and find the necessary words that might bring them back together, but he’d just stand there, outside her quarters, mute, confused and humiliated. Then, with tears in his eyes, he expressed his grief at the loss of the child they’d created together. Deanna had long suspected, since she’d witnessed his breakdown over the tragic loss of his brother and young nephew years before, that he’d harboured a yearning for a child, but as the years passed it seemed less and less likely it would happen and Deanna knew it was because the only women he wanted a child with was his beloved Beverly, he never even contemplated it with any of his other rare relationships.  
Now they had, albeit inadvertently, created a child, not only had it been lost, it was defective. It was a double blow and the grief and anguish that surged through the broken man standing by his lover almost overwhelmed the Betazoid woman. That this tragedy had occurred during the emotional turmoil of their separation only made matters worse. Somehow Deanna had to find a way to help these blighted people rediscover their love. It wasn’t that they no longer loved each other, quite the opposite in fact. It was the depth of the love for one another that was the root cause of most of their heartache. Had they not loved each other so much, they would not have been so deeply devastated by the breakdown of their relationship.  
And now this. Deanna’s attention was drawn to Jean-Luc as she felt then saw his expression change from one of desolate sorrow to one of heartrending, gentle tenderness, something she’d never seen before in him. In fact, the only person to have seen him like that had been Beverly.  
Her eyes opened and she looked up at Jean-Luc, her face blank. Where Jean-Luc might think she was still under the influence of the medications, Deanna was well aware Beverly’s mind was clear. From what the Counsellor could sense, Beverly was trying to make up her mind as to whether to smile and greet Jean-Luc, or order him from the room.  
Thankfully she chose the latter. A smile appeared and she tried to speak, but all that emerged was a croak. Jean-Luc bent, placed a soft kiss on her brow and said softly,  
“Hold on, I’ll get you some water.”  
He turned and picked up the waiting cup with its bent straw. Manoeuvring his hand under Beverly’s head, he helped to lift her so she could take the straw to drink. She closed her eyes with pleasure as the deliciously cold water went down her parched throat. The straw was withdrawn with Jean-Luc saying ruefully,  
“I’ve been in this situation enough times to know you shouldn’t drink too much at first.”  
Beverly smiled and nodded, then asked the question Jean-Luc had been dreading.  
“What happened?”  
He took a deep breath and it was then that Beverly realised he was holding her hand because he increased his grip. Very softly he said,  
“You suffered an ectopic pregnancy and a spontaneous abortion. There was a haemorrhage, but Selar has operated and all your...internal organs are intact and functioning.”  
By the look on Bevery’s face, Jean-Luc could see fist shock, then the beginnings of grief.  
“My God...I was pregnant?”  
Once again, Jean-Luc didn’t know what to say. The only thing that came to him was manifestly inadequate.  
“I’m sorry, Beverly.”  
She looked up at him and frowned. His words were heartfelt, but she didn’t see the grief and anguish in his expression, all she heard was what she thought was a trite platitude.  
“You’re sorry? Thanks. Thanks a bunch, Jean-Luc. That really helps.”  
He closed his eyes, wracking his brain for the right things to say, but his usually erudite and eloquent mind was blank. All he wanted to do was take Beverly in his arms and hold her. Deanna knew; she sensed it so clearly it brought tears to her eyes, but Beverly was oblivious. Her curt dismissal was like a knife through Jean-Luc’s heart.  
“I’d like to be alone now, thanks.”  
All he could do was nod and with slumped shoulders the defeated and heartbroken man silently left the room. Beverly saw Deanna and said archly,  
“I don’t want to talk about it, but I would like to speak to Selar. If you won’t go and get her, I’ll summon her myself.”  
Sighing at the women’s obstinacy, Deanna simply nodded.  
“I’ll go and get her; she’s probably waiting to see you anyway.”  
Beverly looked up at the ceiling and forced her tears back by sheer force of will.  
As Selar entered the captain’s private room, Deanna sought out her captain. At first she’d assumed he’d left sickbay, but she was wrong. He was back in Beverly’s office, sitting quietly in the chair in front of her desk, head bowed, elbows on his knees and his hands hanging limply between his legs. The Counsellor went to him and laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. Jean-Luc rarely allowed physical contact from anyone but Beverly however he drew comfort from Deanna’s gesture.  
“She just needs some time, Captain.”  
He sighed and nodded.  
“I know, Counsellor, I just wish I could find the words...”  
She gently squeezed his shoulder.  
“They’ll come, Captain, once that wall that guards your inner self comes down.”  
Jean-Luc looked up and frowned.  
“But...we’ve done that and it didn’t work. In fact it made things worse!”  
Deanna’s smile was patient, but she felt exasperated that two such intelligent people could be so obtuse and unaware of what was staring them in the face.

“Captain, neither you nor Beverly have demolished that wall yet. You may think you have, but all you did, in actuality was alienate each other by each declaring the wall gone when in fact all you did was pay it lip service.”  
By Jean-Luc’s gathering anger, Deanna knew she’d hit a raw nerve.  
“Beverly told me that after the emotional release you both experienced, what you referred to as a catharsis, you made love and it was unsatisfying. Correct?”  
Quelling his natural desire for privacy, Jean-Luc nodded reluctantly.  
“And the next time you attempted to make love, you were impotent. Yes?”  
Now he was clearly angry and embarrassed.   
“I fail to see what business that is of yours, Counsellor!”  
Deanna smiled; all he had to do was open his damned eyes!  
“Captain, don’t you see? The most intimate thing two people in love can do is make love. The very fact that neither you nor Beverly could find that intimacy after the epiphany and catharsis, if in fact that’s what they were, and I doubt it was, tells me that your hidden inner self was safe and secure well fortified behind your walls as was Beverly’s.”  
All Jean-Luc could say was,  
“But...”  
Settling her backside on the edge of the desk and facing her CO, Deanna said softly,  
“It takes more than a tumultuous emotional outburst, Captain. You and Beverly are alike in so many ways. You’re both intensely private. You’re both in a position of authority and responsibility, although I do admit your position is more difficult than hers, however where your responsibility could be seen as remote in that you command and your orders are what decide how any given situation is approached and resolved, Beverly often holds life in her hands...literally. And you have both been alone for a very long time, despite the obvious attraction and ever-growing sexual tension between you. So, you two finally cross your Rubicon together and on the surface, everything seems to be just fine. But...deep inside both of you lies the one thing neither of you is willing to expose.”  
“And that is?” His tone was a mixture of irritation and annoyance. He was very tempted to tell Deanna to shut up and go away.  
“You’re both as scared as hell.”  
The smile that appeared on Jean-Luc’s face was cold and surprised the Counsellor.  
“Too late, Deanna, we already know that. And knowing it didn’t help one iota.”  
From the man she felt savage disappointment, but Deanna was far from finished.  
“Oh, I have no doubt you both said the words, Captain, that you both correctly identified the demon within, but what did you do about it?”  
“Do about it?” His tone was wary.  
“Yes!”  
“Well, we...we...”  
“You did absolutely nothing.”  
Anger surfaced again.  
“Well what the hell where we supposed to do?”  
“Talk.”  
He snorted derisively.  
“Oh, I see! It’s that simple is it? We just have a cosy little chat and everything’s honky-dory?”  
When Deanna simply gazed unwaveringly at him, Jean-Luc rubbed his forehead.  
“Jesus, Deanna, how many times to I have to tell you? I can’t find the words!”  
“Captain...” Deanna asked quietly, “Do you really want to find them? Or do you still feel, deep inside, that you actually don’t want to give up that precious little piece of yourself that you’ve kept hidden for so long?”  
“Why wouldn’t I?” He was actually showing true curiosity. He actually really wanted to know.  
“Because you would be allowing Beverly to see your true vulnerable self, the self that she and she alone has the power to destroy or nurture. Captain, you’ve never, not in your entire life, trusted anyone enough to let them in that far and neither has Beverly for exactly the same reason.”  
There was silence as Jean-Luc digested what he’d been told. He then looked up and asked quietly,  
“Why have we done this Deanna, what is it about us that has made us want to hide, why are we so afraid?”  
With a shrug, Deanna sighed.  
“From what you have told me about your childhood and your relationship with your father and brother, I can only assume it was your way of protecting yourself. No matter what they did or said, even though outwardly it might appear to have affected you, inside there was your safe, fortified self, invulnerable and impregnable.”  
“And Beverly?”  
“That’s a little more difficult to pin down. It’s not that she’s more complex or damaged than you, but she’s had a child.”  
Pain lanced across Jean-Luc’s face and Deanna sensed the answering spike of emotion.  
“I’m sorry Captain, but it’s true. I think Beverly developed her defensive mechanism at Arveda III, but once one becomes a parent, you simply can’t maintain an unbreakable shield. If you do, you alienate your child! You have to let them in. Wesley would have known that his mother had a core, a part of herself she preferred to keep private, but that’s not to say he was excluded from it. On some level he would have known.”

“Then who was she hiding from?”  
“You.”  
“Me?”  
“Yes.”  
“But...we love each other!”  
“Yes, but like you, Beverly is unwilling to allow herself to expose her vulnerability, however, unlike you, she wasn’t protecting herself from destruction, it was much simpler than that.”  
“What was it?”  
“Hurt.”  
“But I would never hurt Beverly!”  
“Wouldn’t you?”  
Guilt surged through the man as the memory of how he’d shut Beverly out surfaced.  
“Oh, God!”  
Deanna stood and placed a gentle hand back on Jean-Luc’s shoulder.  
“Now you finally see.”

 

“Defect?” Beverly had managed to shove her grief and anger aside to discuss her condition with Selar. The Vulcan Doctor nodded.  
“Yes. The right fallopian tube’s interior was deformed. An ovum was able to enter but it would have been almost impossible, in fact I am astonished it occurred, for even a single spermatozoa to enter the other end to meet, then fertilise the egg.”  
Beverly sighed and rubbed her eyes. “And you say the zygote was so defective you weren’t able to harvest it for artificial gestation?”  
“Correct, Doctor. It seems the deformation of the interior of the fallopian tube made it impossible for normal cell division, but I have not yet studied the remains of the zygote, I am only offering a hypothesis.”  
“Selar, have you measured my oestrogen levels?”  
“Yes.”  
“And?”  
“Although the levels are fluctuating, you have not reached menopause yet, Doctor.”  
“Shit!” Beverly muttered under her breath. “Any idea how long until I do?”  
The Vulcan shrugged.  
“As you know, Doctor, it varies greatly between each individual, but of course you are also aware that I can accelerate the process at any time and bring about the resolution.”  
“No,” Beverly said softly. “Unless I suffer any really uncomfortable symptoms, I’d rather let nature take its course.”  
“That is your choice, of course, but if it is your intent to remain sexually active, especially with Captain Picard, who you know cannot use a contraceptive implant because of his cardiac replacement, then you should have an implant yourself.”  
Beverly scowled. “Which would play havoc with my hormones and prolong the process of menopause. No thank you!”  
“Then you run the risk of falling pregnant.”  
The smile that emerged on Beverly’s face held neither warmth nor humour.  
“That would mean having sex. Not something I plan to do.”  
Confused by the continuing illogical, emotional behaviour of her patient, Selar settled on returning to her report.  
“The surgery was a success; your reproductive organs are now restored. Once your haemoglobin rises to a satisfactory level, and you have sufficient blood volume, the transfusion will cease and I envisage you will be discharged tomorrow morning. I will require you to be off duty for five days during which time I expect you to rest.”  
“Thank you, Doctor.”  
Bowing slightly, Selar left the room. Beverly expected Deanna to return. She was unpleasantly surprised when it was Jean-Luc who appeared. Seeing him immediately brought back the anger and grief.  
“I thought I told you I wanted to be alone.”  
With growing annoyance, she watched as he wheeled a chair close to her bed and sat on it. They stared at each other in silence, one angry and resentful, the other calm and resolute.  
Eventually Beverly snapped harshly,  
“What the hell do you want?”  
Jean-Luc smiled, but the sadness inherent in his expression even the angry Beverly couldn’t miss.  
“Actually, I want you, Beverly. In fact you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”  
His tone was flatly matter-of-fact, completely at odds with the abject sorrow on his face. Beverly was becoming confused, her anger subsiding to be replaced with a form of curiosity and the smallest spark of hope.  
Jean-Luc’s eyes travelled from Beverly’s face to her hand, lying by her side. Very slowly he picked it up, holding so gently that Beverly was drawn to say,  
“Talk to me, Jean-Luc.”  
Even though two fat tears slid from his eyes, he smiled and offered a soft snort.  
“Talk.” He sighed. “That’s what Deanna says we should do and it’s precisely what I’ve seemed to have been unable to do.”  
Her confusion growing along with her concern, Beverly said softly,  
“Then why are you here?”  
“Because I think I’ve finally found the words.”  
“And they are?”  
He chuckled and shook his head, yet tears still flowed from his dark eyes.  
“Let me start with a well-worn cliché or two. I love you with all my heart. I’ve have loved you...I have been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you.”  
Beverly’s bed had been raised so she was sitting up, though slightly reclined. She tilted her head and said carefully,  
“I know that, Jean-Luc, you’ve told me before.”  
“Yes, I have. But what I’ve never told you is that loving you has been the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.”  
Shocked, Beverly gaped, then snapped her mouth closed.  
“Why?”  
He smiled through his tears.  
“Because loving you to the depths of my soul has finally brought me to the realisation I must give up the only thing that has protected me all my life. I have to give it up, Beverly and entrust it to you.”  
He slowly lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. “And you, my love, must do the same. For if you don’t, if you cannot entrust me with that which you hold inside, the core of your being that you’ve hidden for so very long, then there will be no future for us. Not as a couple. Only platonic friendship, will be left for us, Beverly and we will go back to the way we were, lonely, unfulfilled and self-deluded.”  
Tears welled in Beverly’s eyes as the stark truth that she’d feared for so long made its self known. She looked into Jean-Luc’s eyes and saw the terrible naked hope.  
“Can I do it?” She thought, feeling the beginnings of panic. “I don’t know if I can do this! I don’t know if I can let him in so completely and I don’t know if I want to be so responsible for his happiness.”  
Jean-Luc saw her struggle on her face and said softly,  
“I trust you implicitly, Beverly. I have always trusted you, but now I am willing to trust you with my soul.”  
Blinking to clear her tears from her eyes, Beverly said brokenly,  
“I want to...I really do...but...”  
“You’re frightened.” Jean-Luc smiled and shook his head making tears drip off his chin.  
“So am I, Beverly, I’m scared shitless.”  
She had to laugh. Under the circumstances, the supercharged emotional maelstrom, he’d uttered an expletive. So Jean-Luc.  
Sighing deeply, Beverly said ruefully,  
“I must be insane.”  
“Is that a yes?” His face remained inscrutable, and his voice soft and steady but his gaze, his dark green eyes were so filled with hope.  
“Yes, Jean-Luc, it’s a yes. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but for the first time in my life, I am going to expose that which I’ve kept to myself...mostly for self preservation and like you to me, I will entrust it to you. It will give you the ability to destroy me, Jean-Luc. Use it wisely, for I will never give it to anyone again.”  
“It is interesting that you say that, Beverly, because it’s the same for me. You can either destroy me, or make me more than I ever imagined I could be. Simply by giving you the essence of what and who I am.”  
They were quiet for a time, content to simply gaze into each other’s eyes. Then Beverly said softly,  
“May I offer a cliché?”  
Jean-Luc shrugged. He had stopped weeping and he had a curious smile on his face Beverly couldn’t recall ever seeing before.  
“Well, it seems only fair, as I made you endure mine.”  
That made Beverly snort with amusement.  
“Okay, here goes. I love you with every fibre of my being. Only...it’s not just a cliché, Jean-Luc, because in our case, it’s the literal truth.”  
When Jean-Luc leaned slowly forward, Beverly lifted her head to meet him and they kissed. It was so tender, imparting so many emotions. They parted and Jean-Luc whispered hoarsely,  
“I’m so sorry about the baby, Beverly.”  
“Yeah.” She managed, a large lump in her throat. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t try again.”  
Jean-Luc was so taken aback by what she’d said he stood so quickly his seat skidded across the room as he stepped smartly away from the bed.  
“What did you say?” He said in an urgent whisper.  
Beverly shrugged.  
“Although I’m not keen on fertility therapy, I’m willing to make an exception in our case.”  
When he did nothing but gape, Beverly sighed and asked,  
“You do want a family, don’t you?”  
Still with his mouth open, he nodded mutely.  
“Well?”  
Slowly, as if in a daze, which in fact he was, Jean-Luc moved back to the bed and retook Beverly’s hand.  
“Do you mean it, Beverly? Would you do that for me?” He was so incredulous.  
She smiled, tears in her eyes.  
“You said we had the ability to destroy each other. That may be so, but I’d rather use that kind of power to create something of our commitment, Jean-Luc, of our enduring love, of our admitting to each other our deepest, darkest secrets and proving that you and I are truly capable of excluding everything but our love for each other. And I can’t think of a better way of doing that than creating a child...or maybe two...out of that love.”  
He smiled tenderly and kissed her again.  
“And we can endow our children with that power. Freely and without fear or reservation.” He said confidently.  
“Yes, we can.”  
“And in doing so, we will not be diminished, but become more than what we are.”  
“Oh yes! I’ve done it once, Jean-Luc and it changed me forever. But I had thought I’d never feel it again. Now I am filled with anticipation and the delight of watching you discover that about yourself.”  
This time the kiss they shared carried an echo of passion. When they parted, Jean-Luc whispered close to Beverly’s ear in a decidedly seductive tone.  
“When do we start?”  
Beverly snorted and gently pushed him back.  
“In time, Jean-Luc, in time. We have to rediscover each other first.”  
He nodded, a rueful smile making his eyes twinkle.  
“Yes we do and that is the kind of exploration I like best of all. In fact, I believe I excel at it!”  
Outside, Deanna sighed and smiled broadly. “I knew you could do it, Captain. I knew you loved her enough to take the chance, to risk everything. And Beverly, I knew you’d accept.” Feeling aroused and needing the release of pent up emotions and stress, Deanna headed for her quarters, summoning Will as she briskly walked out of sickbay.

 

Meredith’s next client was early. He didn’t bother to announce himself, but barged through the flimsy door with force, snapping one of the rusted hinges, making it sag at an eccentric angle.  
The second Meredith saw him she knew he’d be trouble. He didn’t walk towards the bed, where Meredith was wiping herself, he stalked her as if she was prey and as he approached, he undid his pants.  
Meredith had seen some very odd penises in the months she’d been prostituting herself at the settlement, but this alien’s was the weirdest by far. It wasn’t particularly large, at least not the shaft, but it was multi coloured and five bulbous heads, covered with pointed sharp-looking nodules and Meredith knew immediately, even with lubricant, which she instinctively knew he wouldn’t allow, he simply wasn’t going to fit.  
Having taken muscle enhancing supplements, Meredith was now formidably strong, but the alien towered over her and, despite putting up a valiant struggle he soon had his hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing until she lost consciousness. He positioned her on her back, the lumpy stained pillow shoved under her buttocks and her legs splayed wide. He eased his grip of her throat and, while she regained consciousness, he fondled himself making his erection even harder. She regained her senses to find him with one hand stroking his shaft as three fingers of his other hand were buried deep in her vagina.  
Weakened and trying to gasp through her badly bruised throat, she had no way to prepare herself when he suddenly withdrew his fingers and forced his penis inside her.  
She felt her vaginal entrance tear then more tearing as the huge multi-headed penis end bludgeoned its way inside. She howled in agony which only seemed to delight the rapist.  
“Yeah! Take it, take all of it!”  
Somehow, through a mist of agony so bad she thought she’d pass out, Meredith found her knife. The alien had raised himself up on his long arms, his upper body completely disconnected from Meredith, in fact their only connection was where his penis was in her body. His head craned back as he began to ejaculate. Her mouth wide open in a silent scream, Meredith lifted her upper body and sliced his penis off at its base in one quick sure stroke.  
At first, nothing happened. The alien seemed to be caught in the physical euphoria of his protracted climax, but then he slowly lowered his head and started uncomprehendingly at the blood that was squirting out of the stub of his shaft with such force it was hitting Meredith’s face.  
With a stunned look on his face he said,  
“You fucking bitch!”  
He lunged forward, but Meredith was ready for him. With a quick, surgical swipe, his neck opened up in a wound so deep he was almost decapitated. Blood fountained up, spraying the ceiling, walls, floor and Meredith. With his head loosely flopping back-and-forth grotesquely, his body left the bed and took several steps towards the door, one hand clutched to his groin, where blood squirted rhythmically through his fingers, his other hand trying to keep his head connected to his neck. By the time he reached the ruined door he’d fallen to his knees and pitched forward, crawling outside. For ten minutes nothing happened. Then a trembling Meredith gingerly got to her knees, and with tears of pain pouring down her face, eased the severed penis from her body. In complete and utter disgust, she threw it with great force across the room. It hit the chest of her next client. He looked over his shoulder at the body he’d just stepped over, then casually took in the blood spattered room. Meredith herself was covered in blood, some of it her own as it dribbled down her legs. Sniffing loudly and showing slow anger, he took a small device from his pocket, consulted it, then said mildly,  
“You have one hour. Get this fucking shit hole cleaned up, I’ll be back.”  
Outside he stepped over the body and stalked to the tavern, situated in the main street. The bar keeper looked up, mildly surprised.  
“What are you doing here? You only left here five minutes ago. I thought you’d hired the human cunt for two hours?”  
The few women who were available at the settlement were of different species, so each was known by her species, but all were referred to as ‘cunt’.  
“Some stupid fucker must’ve tried to fuck her without paying. She cut ‘im up real bad. Shit, the fucking mess! Fucking blood everywhere. I told her she’s got an hour to clean it up before I go back.”  
The bar keeper pursed his lips and shook his head.  
“Well, the idiot got what he asked for. I’ve heard she’s a good fuck, but I wouldn’t cross her.”  
“Oh yeah. I’ve heard she’ll flop around like a fish out of water if you pay her enough.” He tossed back the measure of dark liquid in the dirty glass. Grimacing, he barred his teeth and pointed to the glass for a refill.   
“I really hate it when the cunts just lie there; it’s like fucking a damned piece of wood. You might as well use your own hand.”  
Like before he picked up the glass and swallowed the contents in one gulp. The refill was made without request. He put the glass down, and as it was filled again, he shoved one finger into his third nostril and had a good dig around. On extracting his finger, he inspected the load of greenish globs and wiped them on the bar top. The keeper sneered and wiped the snot off with putrid rag, then proceeded to polish the stained glasses with the same rag.  
The ‘client’ drank in moody silence for a while before asking,  
“You got any new vids?”  
The bar keeper nodded and, without being asked, pressed a button next to the chip reader. The wall behind the bar shimmered into a screen and a pornographic vid began to play. Three Orion women were ‘entertaining’ eight males of varying species. The one thing all the males had in common were exceptionally large penises.  
Still steadily drinking, the customer said softly,  
“Turn up the volume.”  
Both men watched in silence, ignoring the two new patrons who seemed to be so enthralled with the vid they forgot to ask for alcohol.  
Meredith’s client remarked darkly,  
“That’s what we should have here...some Orion cunts.”  
The bar keeper, his trousers bulging, shook his head.  
“No, what we need are some Deltan females!”  
“Why? What’s so special about them? A cunt is a cunt.”  
Sorting at the man’s ignorance, the bar keeper said knowingly,  
“Deltan females are always on heat and when they are they exude a pheromone that drives men crazy, but the thing is, they love to fuck! They just can’t get enough! You can stick your cock in anywhere and they want more! They beg you for it!”  
His mood growing ever more dark, the client said,  
“So where do we get Deltans from?”  
The bar keeper sighed dramatically and shrugged,  
“Delta is in Federation territory. Starfleet guards the fucking planet like it’s made out of pure latinum. They say it’s for their protection. If you ask me, those ‘fleet fuckers are fucking their brains out while the likes of you and me are stuck here in this shit hole with the dregs.”  
Casting one more long look at the vid, which now had twelve males doing the most amazing things to the Orion women, the client took his time piece from his pocket and grunted.  
“Well, I’m fucking horny. The human cunt is going to get her visit from me a little earlier than she expected.”  
The bar keeper chuckled cruelly.  
“Give her one for me; I’m stuck here ‘til morning.”  
At the door of the dimly lit room, the client turned with a lecherous grin.  
“Oh don’t you worry, I’ll fuck her so hard my come will spray out her mouth.”  
All the men were laughing raucously when he left.

 

Meredith hadn’t needed an hour; in fact she was ready to leave in just over twenty minutes.  
A quick shower, and dressing while still wet, she’d gently pushed some torn up rags into her bleeding vagina before stuffing her meagre belongings into a large, heavy back pack. With that slung over one shoulder, she picked up the stiff tube containing the images of Beverly and was out the door, quickly divesting the corpse of its latinum and stowing it in her pack and running even before most of the insects had laid their eggs on the corpse just outside the door.  
The next transport was due in ten minutes and the terminal, if you could call the ramshackle set of buildings such, was some distance away. At a dead run, Meredith arrived sweating and out of breath just as the first transports had begun. There were a crowd of men waiting, obviously word had got around there was fresh meat arriving. For this reason, the ship hadn’t landed, but hovered fifty metres above the ground, beaming the passengers down.  
Meredith burst into the office and was confronted by the most corpulent, obese being she’d ever seen. Fronting the desk, she panted,  
“I want passage on that ship!”  
No destination was mentioned. On the settlement, such information was neither asked for or given.  
“Four bars.” The enormous being said from within some rolls of fat on its face.  
Smiling and moving very quickly, Meredith produced her knife and shoved it into the folds of fat around what she thought was the creature’s neck and pushed until she felt the knife tip hit something solid. It was hard to tell, as the being’s eyes were so deeply set within the rolls of fat on its face, but Meredith got the distinct impression they widened.  
“I’m not paying four bars, I’m not paying any bars, but what I will do, is spare your miserable life if you give me my chip.”  
With its small beady eyes never leaving Meredith’s, its hand pressed a few controls and a chip emerged from a slot. The being plucked it out with sausage-like fingers and pushed it across the desk. Meredith didn’t withdraw the knife until she had the chip in her hand. It was then the being spoke to her again.  
“I hear you’re a good fuck. You’ll be missed around here. I’d have liked to have tried you out.”  
It was the first indication of his gender. Meredith grinned and kissed the chip.  
“Yes, I was a good fuck, but you’ll never know.”  
As she got to the door, she turned and said,  
“When was the last time you saw your cock, anyway?”  
Ten minutes later she was on the transport and five minutes after that the ship left.  
The client walked into the room, insects already feasting on the blood which was everywhere.  
“Oh you bitch!” He spat. Out of nothing but spite he went on a rampage, completely wrecking what was left of the hovel. The few worthless possessions Meredith had left behind he piled in the middle of the room and masturbated over them. Then he turned, squatted and defecated. He wiped his backside on the bloodstained sheet, then stalked out to take his pent up sexual tension out on some other unfortunate woman. She would earn her latinum the hard way.

It had been two days and Beverly was feeling fine. Bored witless, but fine. Deanna had dropped by a few times and they’d shared some very productive time talking. Jean-Luc, interestingly, had not called by; however he spoke via the comm. system three times a day, so when he called on the morning of the third day, Beverly wasn’t surprised.  
It was just after ten hundred hours and Beverly was lazing on her sofa, still in her nightie.  
“Picard to Crusher.”  
Beverly grinned and took a long sip of freshly poured coffee.  
“Crusher here, Captain. Go ahead.”  
“Good morning, Beverly. I trust you’re feeling well?”  
“Yes, Jean-Luc, I’m fine, thank you.”  
“Good.” He really did sound cheerful. “I was wondering if you’d like to join me for lunch later today?”  
Beverly nearly spluttered her coffee.  
“Lunch? You’re actually going to eat a meal at midday?”  
She heard his sardonic amusement when he said, “I might be motivated if you accompany me.”  
“Accompany you? Just where are we going?”  
“That would be divulging too much. However, my invitation stands. Will you join me for lunch please?”  
Beverly allowed just enough hesitation to make him sweat before saying guardedly,  
“Okay, I’m in.”  
“Splendid! I’ll pick you up at your quarters at twelve.”  
“What should I wear?”  
“Anything you want, Beverly as long as you’re comfortable. Picard out.”  
“Hmm.” Mused Beverly. “Cryptic and mysterious. Interesting. What are you up to, Jean-Luc?”  
Dressed in a light blue sun dress and with her hair in a pony tail, Beverly decided against footwear, instead going bare foot. It was something she and Jean-Luc had often done when they shared quarters. Beverly had been mildly surprised to find that Jean-Luc liked to go bare foot as much as she did.  
The chime sounded at precisely twelve. Smiling at his habitual punctuality, she was feeling light hearted when she called,  
“Come in, Jean-Luc.”  
The doors opened and he stood before her dressed in civilian clothing. He had on an emerald green silk shirt, cut with a low vee showing some of his muscled chest. Tan slacks accentuated his flat stomach, tantalising crotch bulge and toned thighs. Beverly was well aware those particular trousers would also give a very nice view of his tight backside.  
“Well, you have dressed to impress, my dear Captain.” She thought. “I wonder just what you have in mind?”  
Ever the gentlemen, Jean-Luc gave Beverly an appreciative smile and said softly,  
“You look lovely, Beverly.” He offered his arm and they left her quarters. This was a big departure from his usual behaviour in public and Beverly was also confused that he was out of uniform. As far as she knew, he was still on duty. As they walked the corridors, she remarked quietly,  
“Do you have the Captain’s permission to be out of uniform while still on duty?”  
Tilting his head slightly towards her, he kept his eyes looking ahead.  
“As a matter of fact I do. I have it on good authority that Captains can take extended lunches, in civilian clothing, under exceptional circumstances.”  
Beverly’s step faltered but Jean-Luc gently urged her onward. Slightly off centre she said,  
“Okay. Extended lunches and exceptional circumstances?”  
Still not looking at her, Jean-Luc replied,  
“The Captain’s CMO has been through a very traumatic personal and physical experience. It is the duty of any good Captain, especially one who is so dependent on the expertise of his CMO to make it his business to see that he does everything in his power to assist in her recovery. Hence the extended lunch and the casual clothing.”  
By now they had arrived at holodeck four. For the first time during the walk through the ship, Jean-Luc turned to Beverly, his face calm, but his expressive eyes were twinkling.  
“Ready?”  
Delighted and curious, Beverly nodded and Jean-Luc pressed the activation of a program that was obviously already running. It was a very surprised Beverly to find herself in complete darkness. Suddenly a bright light clicked on and she looked to see Jean-Luc handing her a powerful lamp.  
“Follow me.” Is all he said.  
With implicit trust, she did as he asked and very soon she saw where they were headed. In the beams of their lamps, two deck lounges appeared, a low table between laden with a Champagne bucket in which a cold bottle sweated beads of moisture, two small plates and large platter covered with slices of fruit, pieces of cheese and crusty bread. There was also a variety of cold meats. At his gesture, Beverly took her seat, swung her feet up and lay back.  
“Where are we?” She asked softly and in awe. Above her was a massive array of stars. The entire sky was filled with sparkling pinpricks of light.  
“This is Targus II. I visited here when I was a Lieutenant jg on the Stargazer. The planet doesn’t rotate and so we investigated the sunny side first. Nothing much there really, certainly nothing to excite Command, it wasn’t even deemed suitable for colonisation. But my Captain, always wanting to be thorough, ordered the ship to this side and what we found was remarkable.”  
“What was it” Beverly was now completely intrigued.  
“Patience, Beverly. Here, have something to eat and drink.”  
By the light of their lamps, Jean-Luc filled their flutes then Beverly chose some of the food. Jean-Luc’s voice held a trace of anticipation that only those who knew him very well would have heard.  
“Now, place your plate on your stomach, lay back and sip your wine and enjoy. The show should begin any minute now.”  
He turned off both lamps, plunging them into inky blackness. Beverly munched happily and sipped her Champagne, but nothing happened. She was just about to query Jean-Luc when she suddenly realised the sky above was beginning to change colour. To her utter astonishment, the sky became a kaleidoscope and in the incredible array of riotous colour, the stars seemed to enlarge, their solitary points of shining bright white light punctuating the melange of hues.  
“My God, Jean-Luc! How...why...?”  
“This side of the planet is simply loaded with exotic minerals, but not in great concentrations. The effect you’re seeing is caused by the moon, which will appear very soon and its light will eventually overpower what you’re seeing now. Somehow, and we don’t exactly know how, the gravitational forces of the moon, in concert with the geological make up of this side of the planet have conspired to load the atmosphere with minute particles of the minerals. They remain invisible to the naked eye and inert until the moon begins to get close enough for its ambient light to ignite the particles.”  
“Ignite? As in fire?”  
“No. The process is more like a chemical reaction. The light excites the neurons within minerals, making them glow and the reaction is a cold one. No heat is produced.”  
“Amazing!” Breathed Beverly. The stunning show began to fade and Jean-Luc sighed.  
“You’ll see the limn of the moon in a second or two.”  
Beverly sighed with regret, but then frowned. “If this side never sees the sun, why aren’t we freezing our asses off?”  
That made Jean-Luc chuckle. “I took some liberties with the program. I saw no reason why we should have to eat lunch dressed in survival suits.”  
“How considerate of you, Jean-Luc.”  
The moon had begun to dominate the sky and the wonderful show was over. Jean-Luc switched the lamps back on and they continued their meal. After a companionable silence, Jean-Luc said very quietly,  
“Beverly, I think I’m ready to tell you everything. What I’ve kept inside for so long.”  
Sitting up, Beverly swivelled in the lounge until her feet were on the dusty ground.  
“Okay.”  
He sighed and bowed his head.  
“It was Deanna who first made me realise just how long I’ve had this...safe place. It formed at a very early age, when Robert first began his campaign against me.”  
Jean-Luc had mirrored Beverly’s position on his lounge and she was able to reach across and place a hand on his knee. She said nothing, but it was encouragement enough.  
“It stared at a very early age. I believe Robert resented me from the moment I was born. Favourite toys would disappear or turn up broken and he always made it seem I was to blame and that such a careless child shouldn’t be rewarded by having such nice toys. My parents ignored him, of course, but as I grew, the bullying subtly changed and his sabotage became more and more serious until one day, when an important piece of machinery I was supposed to be watching was badly damaged. Somehow Robert had managed to set me up and my father beat me as punishment. As I grew older, things only got worse. My father became more and more distant and my brother more and more determined to break my spirit. As an adolescent he would delight in humiliating me physically in front of my peers and God forbid, if I found a girl I liked, he always made sure he either won her from me, or told her such terrible lies about me she would have nothing to do with me. The only source of comfort came from my mother. She was so sweet and gentle and loving, Beverly, but not even her gentle love could protect me or heal the hurt my father and brother caused me. And every time they did it, I retreated inside. Outwardly I did my best to stand up to their constant torment and derision, but in my safe place I nursed my heartache.  
“It got so much worse when I was about fourteen and my father had begun to make a concerted effort to get me to take an interest in the vineyard. But when it became clear I wasn’t interested and that it was my intention to join Starfleet, it was as if he no longer felt I was any son of his. That of course raised Robert even higher in my father’s eyes and my dear brother could do as he pleased to me.

“Of course you know I failed in my first attempt to enter the Academy. I don’t suppose there’s any point in describing what that year was like as I waited until I could try again, but if it wasn’t for my safe place, I wouldn’t have made it.”  
“I’m so sorry, Jean-Luc. I knew you’d had a difficult time at home, but I never knew it was as bad as that.”  
He sniffed and sighed.  
“There’s more, Beverly and if I don’t tell you now, if I don’t bring it out into the open now, I never will.”  
“Okay, I’m here, I’m listening.”  
“Once I was away from home, I went through a dramatic change. I became an arrogant, cocky pain in the arse, and I had sex with anything that was female and willing. By the time I graduated, I had quite a reputation as a cocksman. It wasn’t until I was stabbed through the heart by that Naussican that I finally realised I had to change. When I woke up in the Earhart’s sickbay and I was told I had an artificial heart, I retreated, Beverly. All the old insecurities, all the old fears came back with a vengeance. It took some time for me to realise all my stupid behaviour, all my sexual excesses were my way of overcompensating.”  
“It’s understandable, Jean-Luc.”  
He shook his head. “You don’t understand, Beverly, you don’t know the true scope of my sins.”  
“Sins? That’s an odd word, Jean-Luc.”  
“Perhaps, but I think it’s appropriate.”  
Jean-Luc reached out and took both of Beverly’s hands. By sheer force of will he looked into her eyes.  
“Beverly, Jack and I were lovers.”  
Her face remained impassive, but her eyes hardened.  
Jean-Luc sighed and lowered his head; he just couldn’t bear to see the hurt in her eyes.  
“You know I loved him, I loved him like the brother I never had, and he loved me, but there was nothing sexual about our love, Beverly, you must believe me! I am not homosexual or bisexual.” He shook his head and rubbed his forehead.  
“I’ve been living with this for so long and trying to figure it out and I still don’t understand it.”  
Beverly’s voice was remarkably calm as she asked,  
“How did it start?”  
“We’d been in deep space for months and our mission was finally complete. We were on the way back to Earth, but we were so far out it was going to take more than two months to get back. Everyone was so tired, I ordered down time and had the ship manned by a skeleton crew on a short roster so all the crew could get some decent rest.  
“I was sound asleep in my quarters when Jack came by. He had access to my quarters, as I had with his. He came into my bedroom to see me sleeping mostly uncovered, you know how I tend to throw the covers off. I was wearing my sleep shorts and apparently I had an erection. Jack told me later that he stood there at the foot of my bed, transfixed, seeing me by the light of the passing stars. He told me he’d never seen such a beautiful sight.  
“Unbeknown to me, he undressed and sat on my bed. I was so sound asleep I had no idea he was there and I didn’t wake when he slipped his hand in my shorts and began to softly stroke me. I thought I was having an erotic dream, then I smelled his aftershave. Suddenly I woke and froze. I didn’t know what to do! One part of me was screaming to get out of bed, to demand him to leave my quarters, but another part, one I was unfamiliar with seemed to want what he was doing because I stayed hard. My eyes wandered over his naked body and I saw he was erect. He seemed to know what I wanted, because he moved without being asked. He lay beside me and continued to stroke me, then he took my hand and put it on his penis and said softly, please, Johnny.  
“At some stage one of us got the lubricant out of my bedside draw and we masturbated each other. When it was over, we lay together and it was quite extraordinary. Even my orgasm had been very different. Pleasurable, yes, but somehow indecipherable. It’s hard to explain, Beverly but there wasn’t anything sexual about it, it was more...emotional, as if we had just given something to each other we both needed.  
“Anyway, we showered and Jack got dressed and went to leave. We’d not said a word to each other, but he turned in my bedroom door and winked at me, saying, good one, Johnny. I changed the bed and laid down and surprised myself my falling into a deep, satisfying sleep.  
“For the next few weeks, nothing happened and nothing was said. Then, one night I was showered and dressed in nothing but a robe. I was sitting in the living area, listening to music and reading when Jack walked in, unannounced as usual. He walked over to me and just stood there, staring down at me with such longing and hunger. God help me, Beverly, I got hard so quickly I actually felt light headed. I saw Jack had an erection too and without a word he walked into my bedroom leaving me sitting in my lounge chair with a raging hard on. I must’ve sat there for ten minutes, arguing with myself, but in the end I went into my bedroom. In a way it was inevitable. Jack was lying on my bed slowly stroking himself. I lay down beside him but when I went to take him in hand, he brushed my hands away and shifted so his head was at my groin. He played with my testicles then he put my penis in his mouth. I was so shocked I pulled away and shoved him so hard he fell off the bed. He got to his feet slowly with that big grin of his...you know the one...and waved a finger at me. “That’s not going to work, Johnny.” He said. “You’ll like it, trust me.” And to my everlasting shame, I did. I’d always enjoyed women giving me head, but this was so different, I kept trying to get my head around the fact that not only was it a man doing it, it was Jack! And then, just to make things more confusing, when I was about to come, I warned him, expecting him to take me out of his mouth and jack me off. But he didn’t. Not only did he let me come in his mouth, he swallowed my semen.  
“I didn’t know what to do! I think maybe I was flattered, maybe grateful...I don’t know but still, I didn’t feel sexual about either what he’d done or him himself. I just didn’t feel that way about him. However, the event wasn’t over. He moved up the bed, rolled onto his back and spread his legs like a woman, waving an inviting hand at his erection. Now you have to understand, I’d never even thought about performing fellatio I mean, why would I? But I felt I should at least try to reciprocate.  
“I continually gagged of course and was totally inept. At times Jack actually laughed and gave me instructions and you know what? I was so stupid it never occurred to me, not once, that he seemed to know a lot more about it than me.  
“Anyway he didn’t give me the courtesy of a warning that he was about to come, but having a cock of my own I was well aware of the signs, so I took him out of my mouth, with a great deal of relief, and finished him off with my hand. He came over my fist and his belly.  
“He laughed at me, telling me I was an ingénue and that as a Frenchman I was manifestly uneducated in the erotic arts. I think I may have said something arch, like...you wouldn’t say that if you were a woman. He just laughed at me and shot that damned grin and went to shower.”  
Jean-Luc rubbed his face with his hands.  
“The thing is, Beverly, it’s not just that I had these...encounters with Jack, that was confusing enough, but at the time, I was head-over-heels in love with you! I never told Jack; I mean how could I, that when I came I was always thinking of you. His mouth might have been on my cock, but my mind was on you.”  
They were silent for a while, Jean-Luc’s stomach sour; sure he’d just ruined any hope they had of getting back together. When Beverly spoke he was both relieved and surprised by how calm she sounded.  
“He used you, Jean-Luc.”  
“How? It was consensual.”  
“Do you remember the first leave after our honeymoon?”  
Jean-Luc frowned.  
“Yes. Jack had been granted two weeks leave for your honeymoon, then we left for a long mission. We were gone nearly a year. When we got back we all got four weeks.”

“That’s right. Well, the first four days and nights of that leave, Jack and I didn’t leave our bed. I think bathroom breaks and maybe the odd snack might have got us out, but mostly it was sex and sleep, sex and sleep. Wesley was conceived during that leave. Anyway, I had to go back to SFM, I had finals coming up. I was dead on my feet and I’m telling you, we went at it so hard I couldn’t walk straight. I worked through the day, but I had to stay back to try and catch up on the lectures I’d missed while Jack and I were fucking our brains out. I got home really late and I was so tired. I was shutting the apartment door when I heard these groans. I thought Jack was sick, so I rushed into the bedroom. What I saw will stay in my head until my dying day. There was my husband, kneeling behind a first year cadet, Jack’s cock buried to the hilt in the boy’s arse. There was semen on the sheets and as Jack fucked the boy, he was masturbating him. The noise was the boy, he was groaning in ecstasy! And you know what Jack did? He grinned that fucking grin at me and said come on Bev, get your gear off and join in! Just then he came and as he did, so did the boy. I turned around and left. I spent the next three days at SFM and it wasn’t until Jack tracked me down and begged me to come home that...fool that I was...I went with him.  
“He explained that he was bi and that he’d been that way for as long as he could remember. He was even playing sexual games with boys and girls when he was himself only a child. He confessed his love for me, but also made it perfectly clear he wasn’t going to give up men. Of course I reminded him that his partner I’d caught him with was barely a man and he admitted that was a mistake, but apparently the lad had come on to him and he assured me the boy was well used to anal sex. So! I had a choice. I loved Jack, Jean-Luc, no doubt about it, the decision I had to make was could I get used to the fact that I would have to share him? He assured me his encounters with men was purely sexual and that I was the only one he loved, but it was still a very hard decision for me to make. Of course matters were taken out of my hands just before Jack’s leave was over when I discovered I was pregnant. I wanted our child to have a father, bi or not, Jack was the father of my unborn child. So I chose to stay with him, stay in the marriage.”  
“Mon Dieu! Such deceit. He told me that what we were doing wasn’t being unfaithful to you because I was a man. He only thought he was being unfaithful if he had sex with another woman.”  
“Hmph!” Beverly snorted. “Don’t think for a minute he didn’t do that too, Jean-Luc. I came to the conclusion a long time ago that Jack was a sex addict. But tell me something. From what you’ve described, Jack came to you. Was there ever a time when you went to him?”  
His voice broke as he said quietly,  
“Yes. But only once.”  
“Tell me.”  
“It was a similar scenario. Long missions, constant danger and intense situations, then a respite. Tension builds, Beverly, sexual tension. It gets so bad your balls ache and masturbation only goes so far to alleviate it and in those days, regulations stated that the Captain was forbidden to have any sort of sexual relation with a subordinate officer. There was a Lieutenant Commander, a very attractive women who I knew was interested in me. She’s actually made a few passes. I was getting so desperate I’d considered going to her quarters and just doing it. But even as I left my quarters, I felt I was betraying you. I’d convinced myself that I could have sex with this woman and pretend it was you. God...what a fool! What a stupid, stupid lovesick fool I was. I wasn’t surprised when I found myself outside Jack’s quarters and I entered on some kind of automatic pilot. I just wanted release, to feel a body next to mine, to share the emotion of the experience.  
“Jack was asleep, but I undressed and got into bed with him. I was so hard, Beverly. I think Jack woke as I undressed because I was so desperate I slid my penis between his thighs and his hand went to my knob and caressed it. God, I nearly came there and then. He suddenly moved until we were lying head-to-toe and he grinned at me, saying, “I think you know what to do, Johnny.” A sixty-nine! God, how many times had I enjoyed that with a woman! So that’s what we did. I still gagged and I can’t say I enjoyed having Jack’s cock in my mouth, but I do remember being happy I was giving him as much pleasure as he was giving me. In fact, I let him come in my mouth for the first time, although I nearly vomited and had to leave the bed in a hurry to wash my mouth out. Fortunately, for me at least, I’d already come.”  
Beverly leaned forward as Jean-Luc began to weep.  
“Two days later...he was dead. Happy Jack...Jack of all trades...my best friend...was gone.”  
“That’s why you didn’t stay...after the funeral.”  
He nodded.  
“I couldn’t, Beverly. I loved you so much, yet I was responsible for your husband’s death, but more than that, he’d been more to me than just a best friend. I still don’t know what that was, but I can’t help but cherish it.”  
Beverly got up, walked around the low table and sat beside Jean-Luc, putting her arms around Jean-Luc’s trembling shoulders.  
“When we made the last attempt to make love...and you couldn’t...you know...you were thinking of Jack, weren’t you.”  
He nodded slowly and sniffed.  
“After we had that outburst, you know that weird hysterical episode, that’s when I started to think about Jack and I began to retreat into my safe place. Somehow I equated the turmoil, the hurt we were going through with what I experienced during our...affair? and Jack’s death. And there’s something else, Beverly. When you kissed Meredith Bower even though I had that damned knife in my guts, I saw you, I watched and I saw your eyes close and your jaw move as you slid your tongue into her mouth and you looked just like you do when you kissed me like that and something inside me snapped. I got mixed up!”  
He began to sob and Beverly guided his head to her shoulder. All she could do was hold him because she knew when he recovered, it would be her turn to confess her ‘sins’.

 

The transport that had taken Meredith away from the hated settlement was a dilapidated, slow scow of a vessel, crowded and barely able to cope with the needs of its passengers. Food was at a bare minimum, washing reduced to a quick sixty seconds in a shared, four beings together, sonic shower. Meredith’s vaginal bleeding slowed, but didn’t stop altogether. She changed the packing as often as she could, but even finding suitable strips of rags was difficult, so by the time she reached her destination three weeks later, she was running a high fever and not only blood oozed from her , but pus as well. The odour emanating from her made even her fellow passengers, each unsavoury in their own way, wrinkle their noses in disgust.  
With her considerable stash of latinum she had no trouble paying for a place in a luxurious clinic. It had been part of her plan anyway, the only hiccup being her illness. The Doctor she insisted on seeing was a cadaverous being with sunken florescent green eyes, long tapered seven-fingered hands and a mop of shaggy blue hair. She didn’t know what species he was, nor did she care. Her sources assured her he and he alone was the one to see for what she had in mind.  
Looming over her as she lay in the private room’s bed, he shrugged his pointed shoulders so high they actually covered his fleshy ears completely.  
Without a communicator to translate, she had to rely on the small device he had clipped to his startlingly white coat.   
“I am not familiar with this pathogen. It is proving resistant to treatment. Where did you say you were when infected?”  
Meredith scowled. If the translator was giving an accurate approximation of his voice, she knew she would soon tire of it. It was high-pitched and had a whining quality that grated on her nerves. However, she needed this creature...at least for the time being.  
“I didn’t say.”  
The alien, who was supposed to be a doctor familiar with human physiology, shrugged again. He was used to patients like this. As long as they paid...and paid well, he would not press for answers when the individual was reluctant in being forthcoming. But it did complicate matters, especially at times like this.  
“I see. Well, if you want the...procedures done you will have to be in excellent health, which clearly at present you are not. That leaves only two choices. Either you wait and continue to worsen while I take the time to isolate the pathogen, then design a treatment, which may or may not be successful, or you can undergo cell transferral.”  
“Which means what, exactly?”  
He shrugged again this time pushing out his meaty dark purple lower lip.  
“It is a technique by which I remove all your body’s cells, in small groups according to a set pattern. Each group is irradiated using hyper gamma bursts. Of course, this destroys the cells and any lingering pathogens, but I have the ability to regenerate the cells and replace them in perfect health.”  
“So why don’t you just do that? It seems the most efficient thing to do.”  
He grinned and the rows of pointed discoloured teeth made Meredith think of some of the more grotesque creatures she’d seen in her time in space.  
“Because it is extraordinarily painful!” He said it as if it were delightful, as if he was delivering happy news.  
“Can’t you give me something for the pain?”  
His face fell in some semblance of sombre sorrow, but the expression lacked any real emotion.  
“Alas, no. Any drug I gave you would be eliminated in the cells along with everything else.”  
With a sigh, Meredith flapped a hand.  
“I can put up with pain.”  
“I do not doubt you have a high pain threshold, but as I only take small groups of cells at a time, the procedure takes a very long time. Sadly, it is not uncommon for the patient to die, either from shock, or prolonged exposure to unremitting agony.”  
Staring up at the clean, white featureless ceiling, Meredith had little trouble making up her mind. If she died, sobeit. But...if she survived, her beloved Beverly would be that much closer to being hers. And to get Beverly, Meredith would do anything, even risk her life. The pain would be worth it.  
Not shifting her gaze, Meredith said softly,  
“Do it.”  
She never saw the grin on the Doctor’s face as he pressed a small recessed button on her bedside table. The door to her room slid open silently and a white-clad being entered.  
“Prepare the patient for cell transferral treatment.”

 

The alien Doctor had not understated his warning of prolonged agony. If asked later how she not only withstood the seemingly ceaseless agony, but somehow, despite the odds survive it, the only explanation she would be able to give was her ability to focus every atom of her being on one single image, one single thought. Beverly. It was ironic in a way. Beverly’s profession, indeed her life’s passion had been medicine, but more than that, being a healer and the ultimate act of a healer was the saving of lives. So, even though Beverly was completely unaware of it, she fulfilled her vocation and vicariously saved Meredith’s life by sustaining her through the most hideous time of her life. The only problem with this was that the life saved was one which was hell bent on destroying everything Beverly held dear in the perverted belief that the red headed doctor would not only be happy with Meredith, but want to be with her in the first place.  
Having been immobilised within a stasis field during the procedure, Meredith had screamed and screamed until her voice was ruined. Semi-conscious and almost delirious, once the last group of cells had been treated and replaced, the incoherent woman was taken into a quiet room and given a powerful sedative. She slept for two days and her rise to consciousness was monitored by the flat, circular device attached to her right temple.  
The door slid open silently and the alien doctor glided in. His three legs hinged backwards giving him an insectoid appearance. Meredith opened her mouth to speak, but the Doctor held up one hand in a cautionary gesture.  
“Do not speak. Your larynx has been ruptured. Normally, I would have repaired it as a matter of course, but, judging by the amount of...work you require, I thought you might like to include a new voice. It can be higher pitched, lower, male or female, husky or dulcet-sweet.” He grinned again, exposing his fearsome teeth. “I can even give you a voice like mine! My many wives tell me it is my most alluring feature.”  
No smile emerged on Meredith’s face. She had swallowed, finding the throat numb inside. Seeing she wished to say something, the Doctor alarmed her by placing all his seven fingertips spread across her brow. He smiled down at her and for the first time she saw genuine warmth in his eyes.  
“Just think it, I will hear you.”  
Meredith frowned as the torrent of words formed in her mind. She had a lot to say.

 

Twenty long, silent minutes had passed. Beverly had taken her arms from Jean-Luc, letting her hands lay on her lap as they sat side-by-side, shoulders touching as Beverly leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. Jean-Luc sat with his hands clasped loosely between his knees, head bowed. He had stopped weeping some time ago.  
Eventually, Beverly sighed.  
“Do you feel any better?”  
He seemed to find that question difficult to answer and he took so long to say anything, Beverly thought he wasn’t going to.  
“I’m not sure.” He said at last, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. The darkness that surrounded them seemed like a security blanket, hiding each other’s emotions, reducing the risk of exposure. It was Beverly who realised this and lifted her head to say,  
“Computer, run Holodeck program Crusher three.”  
The blackness of night disappeared and they found themselves sitting on the crest of a gently sloping hill, covered in knee-high grasses, the valley below filled with mist. Jean-Luc looked around him, taking in the coolness, the overcast skies and the scent of imminent rain.  
“Where is this?”  
“Caldos. I used to come up here to think.”  
They sat close together as before, Beverly leaning against his solid body. He sighed again and frowned.  
“That question, Beverly was a loaded one.”  
“Well, we’re here to bare our souls. I guess ridding ourselves of all that is vile and hideous is hard work, but my question stands. Do you feel any better, Jean-Luc?”  
Jean-Luc thought about that for a little while and shook his head.  
“Not vile or hideous, Beverly. Yes, some of my hidden secrets were horrible to me and you but even though I may have ruined any hope of us ever regaining what we once had, not only do I not regret telling you, but I can’t regret what Jack and I had.”  
He stared at his hands, resting on his bent knees.  
“I’ve told you what I felt for Jack wasn’t sexual and although you may find that hard to believe or understand, it’s the truth. Somehow...and I suppose from what you’ve told me about him, it was totally one-sided, but I loved Jack, the connection we shared was emotional, at least it was for me. My feelings for Jack; or more precisely my need to connect emotionally with someone, someone I cared deeply about was expressed in what Jack and I did. That it involved sex was incidental.” He shrugged. “But then now I know it was only me who felt that way. I thought Jack loved me, again, not sexually, but like a brother.” He snorted. “Jesus, we might as well have simply shaken hands.” He sighed and bowed his head. Almost inaudibly he rumbled, “And then he was gone.”  
Picking at a stalk of dried grass, Beverly idly plucked the seeds from the tip.   
“You never really let him go, did you.”  
“No.” He sighed. “I was responsible for his death, Beverly. Not directly, I know that intellectually, but as his commanding officer, I sent him to his death, just as I’ve sent so many others to the same fate. And I haven’t let go of them either. I suppose it is one of the burdens of command and although you can learn to live with it, compartmentalise it, it still resides inside. And Jack, although not the first to die under my command, is the one death I cannot forgive myself.” He turned and looked into Beverly’s eyes. “Do you want to know why, Beverly?”  
She nodded, but was pretty sure she knew what he was going to say. As it turned out, she was right.  
“Because I don’t know if I put Jack, my best friend and lover and husband of the only woman I have ever truly loved, into a dangerous situation deliberately, subconsciously hoping to get rid of him, so I could have you!”  
“God, Jean-Luc, that’s pretty fucked up.” It was the mixture of irritation and disbelief that made Jean-Luc scowl.  
“Oh you bet it is! It’s about as fucked up as it gets!”  
Beverly turned to look into Jean-Luc’s eyes and he saw her anger.  
“Since when do you wallow in self-pity?! Would you like me to supply you with something to flagellate yourself with? Jesus, Jean-Luc. Jack died doing his job! Yes, you gave the order, that was your job! But as the Lieutenant Commander in charge of the mission it was his responsibility to get the job done. Okay, he died in the attempt...and so you nearly did too, in your successful and illegal raid to retrieve his body.” She rested a warm hand on his thigh and stared at her fingers. “Jean-Luc, I never blamed you for Jack’s death, you know that, you’ve known that all along. This...self condemnation is all about guilt, but not guilt over the circumstances of Jack’s death, but what you shared with him in life. You say what you felt for Jack wasn’t sexual, that what you shared wasn’t sexual, but your words are at odds with your heart.”  
He frowned and shook his head.  
“But, Beverly, if what you’re saying is true then is my sexual identity confused? Have I been deluding myself? Was my excessive sexual aggressiveness as a youth some kind of overcompensation to bury latent homosexuality? Or bisexuality?”  
With a soft smile and a snort, Beverly shook her head in disbelief.  
“I don’t believe this! God, Jean-Luc, you are the most masculine man I have ever met! You exude sensuality and sexuality and my dear friend, it is totally and wholly heterosexual.”  
His face hardened.  
“And yet the last time we tried I couldn’t get it up to make love to you because I was thinking of Jack!”  
Exasperated, Beverly lifted her hands and shook her fists.  
“Dammit, Jean-Luc! Think! We were so fucked up! Tell you what. I’ll give you one word that explains that single instance of impotence. Stress! No psychobabble, no analysis necessary! This may come as a surprise to you, Jean-Luc, but beneath your Captainly exterior, you are a normal human male and if there is anything as easily influenced by stress in bed it’s a man! Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of performance anxiety!”  
He mulled sullenly over that, then squared his shoulders, looked Beverly in the eye and said quietly, but with underlying steel,  
“All right. Time to lance your boil!”  
She held his gaze and swallowed to wet her suddenly dry mouth. In a very small voice she said,  
“I killed a man.”  
Knowing this was a very significant confession, but not knowing in what context it had been made, Jean-Luc waited, saying nothing, asking nothing. His patience paid off.  
“I know what you’re thinking, Jean-Luc. In the line of duty, we have all killed. And yes, as a Doctor, particularly given the Hippocratic Oath, killing anybody, even in self defence is not only breaking that oath, but is at odds with everything my profession holds dear. I’m in the job of preserving life, not taking it, but there have been times when it has been necessary. Part of being in Starfleet.”  
Still, Jean-Luc remained silent, but Beverly had his full attention.  
“When I was eleven and Nanna and I had just moved us to Caldos, I was raped. The rapist, once he was finished, told me he knew where I lived and that if I told a living soul about what had happened, he would come in the night, take me from my bed and do it again.  
“Naturally, I believed him. After all, he had just demonstrated his complete power over me. I hid my injuries and tried to live with the ever-constant fear. My Nanna was a loving woman, gentle and caring, but very busy, being the only healer in the fledgling colony. So I guess she didn’t notice when I became withdrawn. Of course she may have noticed and put it down to depression, what happened at Arveda III, the loss of my parents...well let’s just say she never put my behaviour down to anything like sexual assault”  
Although Beverly smiled it did not reach her eyes.  
“If it had ended there, maybe what happened later might not have occurred, but that bastard rapist sought me out and on three more occasions over a period of four months he raped me again. I was so terrified of him...I would see him sometimes at the market place and, if he thought no one was watching he’d lick his lips and wink at me. It made me feel sick to my stomach. Then one day he turned up at our cottage. He had hurt his arm, cut it quite badly and had come to seek help from Nanna. It was me who answered the knock at the door and when I saw who it was I vomited over his feet.”  
Snapping off another stalk of dried grass, Beverly rolled it between her fingers.  
“Nanna finally realised something was very wrong and although she never asked me about it, the man was encouraged to leave the colony.  
“Gradually, over the ensuing years I put my experiences behind me, but some part of me was always searching for that man. When I finally left Caldos on my journey to Earth to enter the Academy and begin my medical degree, I stopped off at star base fourteen. You may remember it, it had a reputation for uncontrollable behaviour, mostly because the station Commander was addicted to a banned substance and couldn’t give a flying fuck what happened under his command. In fact the dead beats of Starfleet usually ended their less than stellar careers there.”  
Jean-Luc nodded slowly, and murmured, “Yes, I know of it. It wasn’t until an Andorian killed the commander over a gambling debt that Command finally did something and decommissioned the base and completely overhauled it from every rivet right up to the new Commander.”  
“Yeah,” Said Beverly wistfully. “Well, I was due to stay there for four days while I waited for the next ship to take me to Earth. On my third day there, guess who I ran into?”  
“Oh, Jesus!”  
“Yep! My dear friend the rapist. And you know what? He didn’t recognise me! Maybe if I’d laid down with my dress up around my chest, my knickers pulled down and my legs spread he would’ve remembered me! Oh yeah, and of course I’d have to be quietly crying and begging him to stop.”  
Jean-Luc put an arm around Beverly and felt her trembling, but she pulled away from him.  
“No, I don’t want your pity! Not until you hear everything.”  
He nodded his compliance.  
“I was incensed and I cannot adequately describe how enraged I felt, but the more I thought about it, the more the memories came, which had never faded, the colder and calmer I became. And then it hit me! My grand idea.  
“I didn’t even have to prepare, well, not too much. Picking my dress carefully, I put on a little makeup, put my hair in a pony tail and went bare foot into the bar. And there he was, just as I knew he would be. And true to form, he gave me the once over as soon as I walked in the door. Having caught his eye, I licked my lips and winked at him.  
“Even though he’d had a bit to drink, there was a spark of recognition. He got up from his barstool and boldly strode straight up to me grabbing my breast and planting a kiss on my mouth. I don’t know how I controlled myself, especially when he said,  
“I hope you still like to fuck, my little girl. You may have tits now, but I bet I can still make you wriggle and cry.”  
“I took his hand and led him from the bar. I might as well have led him by his cock, ‘cause he was already hard. I went only as far as the nearest storage locker and took him inside. While I allowed his hand to tug down my panties while his other freed his cock, I took the long-bladed scalpel I’d hidden in my dress. He leered at me, his putrid breath washing over my face as he said disgustingly, “I hope you’re still as tight as you were when you were a little girl.” I smiled and just as he tried to shove his fingers inside me, I grabbed his cock and balls cut it all off at the base. To stop him making any sound, I stuffed his genitals so deep into his mouth he began to choke. Every time he lifted his hands to try to clear his throat, I cut him with the scalpel. Of course he was haemorrhaging and blood was squirting everywhere, but I didn’t care. In fact when he died, which was through choking, I was so disappointed it had been too quick. I stood there, staring down at his body, then I methodically cut him into small pieces. Making sure I did my best work on his face. His eyes I removed and pushed, using my fingers, into his anus. It was as if I was in some kind of trance and to this day, I don’t exactly know how long I spent taking out years of pent up rage and fear on his corpse.  
“Eventually whatever it was I felt...or didn’t feel...passed. That was when the reality of what I’d done set in. I had successfully carried out my idea. However, I’d not given one thread of thought as to how to extricate myself from this rather compromising situation. Spending years in New Zealand in Star Fleet’s correctional facility wasn’t what I had planned for my life, so I had to think fast. Happily, I’d used a locker that contained contraband Orion dancer’s costumes. I vaguely remembered some Orion women making quite a bit of latinum in a deal with the bar owner. I took my clothes off, bundled them into a ball, and wiped off as much of the blood as possible. Then, I dressed, if that was what you could call draping one’s self in the diaphanous wisps of cloth the Orion women wore, then, carrying my soiled clothing, I cracked open the door and made sure I hobbled as if I’d just had the fuck of a lifetime. I saw only two people, both men, neither human, who laughed, one suggesting to me that I was in the wrong job if I couldn’t handle it. Somehow I made it to my quarters which thankfully weren’t far away.”  
She sighed and rubbed her eyes.  
“Obviously, I was never caught. The body was discovered when someone complained about the smell, but in a rat’s nest like that base he was just another dead body. In small pieces, with his genitals shoved down his throat, but nameless and uncared for. The gossip was that an Orion woman had probably objected, quite forcibly at having given service and not been paid.”  
Beverly snorted.  
“I must say, the males on that station were all a little subdued for a while after he was found. Still, I kept a low profile and left just as soon as my ship was ready to go the following day.”  
Lifting his eyebrows, Jean-Luc said quietly,  
“I understand revenge, Beverly. Don’t forget what I nearly did to all of you in my pursuit of killing the Borg.”  
“Oh, yes, I know. But you didn’t become a Doctor and take an oath, the first precept of which is first and foremost...Do no harm!  
“For some years after that I wouldn’t let any man touch me. Not even to hold my hand. But guess who broke through the ice? Through my so very carefully constructed armour?”  
Jean-Luc closed his eyes.  
“Jack.”  
“Yep. Good old Jack.”  
She sighed heavily and lowered her head into her hand  
“You know how I told you once I discovered his dirty little secret I had a dilemma? Well, I loved him so much I allowed him to talk me into a threesome. On more than one occasion. Sometimes it was with me and Jack and another man, sometimes it was me with Jack and another woman. Do you remember Ambassador Odan?”  
“Yes.”  
“When he was placed in the body of a female Trill symbiot, he/she came to me, wanting to continue our relationship and God help me, I so very nearly did! You think you have sexuality identity issues? Ha! Get in line, Jean-Luc, join the queue.”  
“Jesus.”  
“Yep, Jesus.”  
They were silent for a while, each staring sightlessly at their hands. It was a soft snort from Jean-Luc that stirred Beverly, making her ask, “What?”  
He turned his head slightly towards her, but his gaze stayed on his hands.  
“Tell me, Beverly, do you feel any better?”  
Her snort was a little more forceful than his.  
“Okay, touché. It was a prosaic thing to say and I apologise.”  
“So you feel like shit, like I do?”  
“Oh yeah, like someone has hit me over the head a number of times with something hard and heavy.”  
Jean-Luc smiled and this time when he put his arm around her shoulders, she leaned to him until their bodies touched.  
“Have I fucked everything up Beverly? Is our relationship irrevocably broken?”  
Again placing her hand in his thigh, she sighed.  
“No, I don’t think so, but we’re going to have to start...   
“At the beginning.” He sighed, closing his eyes and lowering his head.  
“No, Jean-Luc! We know each other we have all this history behind us! And now there’re no more skeletons. We don’t have to go back, Jean-Luc, we have to go forwards!”  
“So...there can still be an us?”  
Bumping her shoulder against his, Beverly said sardonically, “We are an us! Okay, we’ve met some...bumps and I don’t know about you, but getting over those damned bumps has been fucking hard! But we are over them. She looked at Jean-Luc, gently placing her fingers under his chin to make him look at her.  
“You and I have the most basic, most fundamental element for any lasting relationship. We love each other! All we have to do now is work out the logistics.”  
He smiled and shook his head.  
“You make it sound like a mission.”  
“It is! You’ve already told me how much you enjoy exploration. “She grinned lasciviously “And how you excel at it!”  
“I am ever modest, but that is a gross understatement!”  
“Egoist! But true. Anyway all that bullshit about sexual identity...we know what we are Jean-Luc and that’s a perfect fit! Sexually, emotionally and intellectually. Now, you tell me if I’m wrong.”  
He stared into Beverly’s eyes and it was as if he was seeing her for the first time. He began to harden extraordinarily quickly and at that very moment he’d never wanted has as badly as he did right then. She must have seen his lust/love in his eyes because she shook her head.  
“No. Not yet.” Before he could protest she held up her hand. “I’m feeling exactly the same way, Jean-Luc, I want you so much it hurts, but if we have sex now all we’ll be doing is fucking. When we’re really ready, physically and emotionally, we will make love! And if I’m right, it will be the most profound experience of our lives because we will know each other like we’ve never known anyone before!”   
His erection had become so uncomfortable he stretched his legs out and lay back, closing his eyes and trying to will his cock to subside. But he wanted her too badly. Lying beside him on her side, Beverly said quietly, “Watch, Jean-Luc, and while you watch me, take care of your need.”  
As his eyes wandered over her, she lifted her dress and eased her hand under the low waistband of her panties. The second her fingers met her clit her eyes fluttered and she moaned Jean-Luc’s name. Still he made no move, transfixed by the eroticism of what he was seeing. Then her scent hit him and his penis began to throb so painfully that he quickly undid his trousers, and reached in to not only free his erection but to lift his testicles out. He spread the copious amount of precome over the head and began to quickly stroke himself. Urgently he managed to pant,  
“Look at me!”  
Beverly’s eyes opened and locked onto his. Pupils dilated and their skin flushed. Beverly’s mouth opened and her face screwed up as if in intense pain. Jean-Luc’s jaw was clenched so tightly he thought surely he would crush his own teeth. Hissing his short breaths through his teeth, he said,  
“Oh God, I’m so close!”  
Beverly’s fingers moved faster and a small cry emerged. Her body shuddered and suddenly she held her breath. As Jean-Luc realised she was coming his ejaculation overwhelmed him. Through his bared teeth he groaned loudly, his semen jetting over his fist and up onto his shirt.  
His orgasm lasted for some time, but Beverly came again and again, her fingers seeming to have a life of their own. He was flat on his back, his fist still gently stroking his softening penis as Beverly finally let out an explosive breath and slowed her fingers.  
“Oh, fuck!” She gasped. “Me too!” Panted Jean-Luc. “The only way that could’ve been any better is if I was deep inside you.”  
“Oh, yes! Oh God, how I wanted it too.”  
There was silence then as their lungs and hearts recovered. Jean-Luc rolled onto his side and smiled almost shyly.  
“You know, Beverly, ever since I had my first sexual experience I’ve always wondered what a woman’s orgasm felt like.”   
Beverly snorted and shook her head in obvious amusement. Jean-Luc wasn’t sure whether he should be offended, or curious. He decided on the latter.  
“What?”  
Her eyes were actually dancing as she chuckled. “When I first started my degree at SFM, I was billeted with three other women. It wasn’t often we were all home together, although where the other three were most often off partying at night and I, being the ice-queen swat stay in, there were times when we found ourselves together with little to do but talk about men and specifically sex. Of course, I didn’t add too much to these...discussions, but there was one thing we all agreed on.”  
Intrigued, Jean-Luc asked softly,  
“And what was that?”  
“If we ever found that we’d been turned into an adult human male, the first thing we’d do was wank to find out what a man’s orgasm felt like!”   
They both descended into laughter. Beverly gasped softly as she removed her hand from her panties and Jean-Luc heard her. Before she could move her hand away, he gently caught her wrist and with breathtaking delicacy, slipped her first two fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. His gesture made Beverly sigh with pleasure and when he removed her fingers and said huskily,  
“No doubt you’re still wet.”  
She nodded, feeling the arousal returning. Moving closer, Jean-Luc whispered,  
“Take your panties off.”  
Never breaking eye contact she did as he asked but when he went to use his own fingers on her she shook her head.  
“No...use the other hand, the one with your semen on it.”  
His eyes darkened and his penis twitched, slowly showing some interest. Complying with her wishes, he wiped his semen covered hand through her folds, watching intently as her eyes slitted. Seeming of its own volition, she reached for him, coaxing, squeezing and stroking until he was hard again. They began to pleasure each other, but Beverly managed to gasp,  
“We shouldn’t be doing this...we should wait!”  
“I’m not inside you Beverly; it’s my fingers, not my cock. We’re not making love, we’re exploring, relearning and oh, God, how I love to see you come.”As he spoke those words, Beverly did indeed come. Knowing her as well as he did, he didn’t stop but kept going, pushing three fingers in and out of her while his thumb slid back and forth over her clit. It wasn’t until she gasped,  
“Enough! No more, no more.”  
Gently withdrawing his fingers and removing his sodden hand, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes as he stroked himself, using the combination of her dew with his semen as lubrication. In her multi-orgasmic bliss, Beverly had let go of him. And he knew, having already come, it was going to take a while to achieve his climax. That was until he felt Beverly remove his hand and engulf his considerable length deep into her mouth. He let out a strangled shout at the sudden change in intensity of sensation. He was very sensitive and Beverly’s rough tongue was almost too much. She gripped the base of his cock in one hand and, as he did, utilised their combined fluids to wet her index finger which she slid over and around his anus. Again he couldn’t stop a guttural groan escaping. She was so good at this, he felt his orgasm approaching. Beverly felt him stiffen and pushed her finger deep inside until she touched, then pushed his prostate. His ejaculation, although not as much as the first hit the back of her throat hard, making her have to concentrate on breathing through her nose. When the last of the spurts had ceased, she swallowed and let him gently slip from her mouth.  
When he could speak, all he could say was, “Sweet Jesus!”  
Flopping onto her back, Beverly sighed deeply and closed her eyes just as the threatening rain began to fall.  
“Ditto!”  
Smiling to himself, Jean-Luc chuckled tiredly. “See why I enjoy exploration so much?”  
“Yeah,” She couldn’t quite summon a chuckle, she was too spent. “But God, Jean-Luc, I don’t think I have the energy to walk back to my quarters.”  
“No problem. You know that Captain who allowed me to do away with my uniform, even though I’m still on duty?”  
“The same one who said you could take and extended lunch?”  
“Yes, him.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Well, he has the authority to order site-to-site transport whenever he wants.”  
“Oh, God. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. What do I have to do to thank him?”  
That brought an amused snort.  
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to run a regenerator over his penis which I happen to know is going to be a little sore tomorrow.”  
This time, Beverly just hummed.  
“Gladly.”  
Jean-Luc tapped his comm. badge.  
“Transporter room three, two to beam from my current position to Doctor Crusher’s quarters.”  
“Aye, Captain. Energising now.”  
Once back in Beverly’s quarters, Jean-Luc took her elbow and guided her to the bathroom. He gave his soiled shirt a quick glance and sighed.  
“We need a shower, and I need to replicate a clean shirt.”  
“Okay,” Agreed Beverly. “But then, my love, you’ll have to leave.”  
If he was disappointed he didn’t show it. They showered together and where Beverly dressed in a nightie, Jean-Luc decided to replicate all new clothing. He went back into Beverly’s bedroom to find her just awake. Kissing her softly, he whispered,  
“Dinner in my quarters tomorrow night?”  
“Mmm.” Was her only reply.   
“I love you, Beverly.” He whispered. She smiled and murmured,  
“Me too.”  
Her left thinking to himself,  
“Well my cock is going to be sore after all. Still, it was well worth it!” Feeling better than he’d felt in weeks, he went to his quarters, informing Will on his way that he was taking the rest of the day off.

 

Standing in front of the mirror in her luxurious bedroom, Meredith just had to smile. She was naked and her eyes roamed over her muscular, but toned, bronzed body. With one hand on her hip, she put one leg forward, pointing her toes and admiring the play of the long, softly defined power in the thigh. Turning slightly, she studied the firm elongated roundness of her calf.  
Her free arm she extended, twisting it to see the tendons and muscles slide under her hairless skin. She had no hair anywhere on her body, not even her head. Every hair follicle had been removed including eyebrows and eyelashes. Her breasts had large pads of muscle under them, but special, soft implants had augmented her but not in an overtly feminine way. Rather, when seen naked she resembled one of the ancient androgynous gods she’d seen in her quest to find her perfect image. The surgery to change the colour of her eyes had been time consuming but the results were spectacular. Staring back at her, in their newly shaped sockets were eyes so brightly light blue, they were compelling, but in such a way that there was no doubt that the owner of the eyes was both dangerous and powerful, both physically and intellectually. Certainly no human who had ever lived had ever possessed eyes like hers. Of course it never occurred to Meredith that she no longer remotely resembled a normal human, male or female. Some, on seeing her even clothed would have difficulty correctly identifying her species. Humanoid obviously, but gender? Species? That was anyone’s guess. What was not in any doubt or could possibly be misconstrued was the underlying potential for violence she now possessed.  
Her stay at the clinic had been a long one. Along with the body modification, facial reconstruction had taken place. Implants to her cheeks, chin, brow, ears and even her teeth no longer resembled what she once had. She was taller too. The procedure to lengthen her bones had been relatively painless, but annoyingly protracted. Her hips had been narrowed, her shoulders widened and her backside reduced and the underlying muscle tightened and lifted.   
At one stage she had considered changing her gender to that of male, thinking it might amuse Beverly. Medical science had the ability to reassign gender with remarkable results. She knew that even if she wished to retain her internal female organs, and her clitoris even to the point of keeping the ability to reproduce an offspring, she could still have male genitalia constructed that was not only indistinguishable from the real thing, but would even function, in that she would not only be able to achieve an erection and experience orgasm, but ejaculate! Inside her body and connected to the penis via a tube would be a pouch which could be filled from an unobtrusive valve situated just under the skin, into which she could inject with a white fluid with the same viscosity as average human seminal fluid. Upon ejaculation, the pouch would empty itself in a predetermined amount of spurts. The only thing she could not do, if she chose this path, was to produce sperm. However, should she have the reassignment and wish to produce offspring as a male, sperm could be bought from a collection agency and added to the fluid, which had the necessary sugars and proteins added to sustain the sperm. And there was a huge variety of sperm available. Any species capable of reproducing with a human male was available...at a price, which thanks to her very lucrative stay at the settlement, she could easily afford, just as she paid the clinic with no effort and was now on another planet enjoying the penthouse suite of the most expensive hotel in the capital.  
The planet was not in the Federation, of course. They didn’t use money...oh no! That was considered beneath their lofty ideals! No, for the next month or two, Meredith would stay in the hotel, paying her way and working on her new body. Her ultimate decision to remain basically female, at least internally and retaining her clit; hadn’t been hard in the end. The Doctors who had offered the options had been very keen for reassignment, given her new statuesque height and muscularity and the alterations to her hips, shoulders and face, they felt a male designation would be the obvious choice, but as soon as Meredith’s mind produced the memories of the stinking, grunting fuckers who rutted in her like animals she quickly made up her mind. Her basic sexual identity had not changed, she was still homosexual, but for her purposes she eventually decided androgyny would suit her best. Besides, once she had her face buried between Beverly’s legs and her new longer and more muscular tongue was working its magic, she felt sure Beverly wouldn’t care what she looked like; she’d love her unconditionally because she was, underneath it all, still Meredith Bower!  
Still in front of the mirror she reached down and gently squeezed her Bartholin’s glands, (getting manual access to that was another little...enhancement) and slippery mucous flowed onto her fingers. Whilst staring intently into her own unsettling eyes she slowly masturbated, fascinated to watch as the muscles under her skin began to move and tense, her nipples, which were the same colour as the rest of her skin hardened and as her orgasm approached she exulted in her power and new identity. When the climax took her she howled Beverly’s name, but the hunger, the ever-present yearning persisted even after the orgasm had waned. She wasn’t even slightly out of breath when she muttered,  
“One day, my beloved Beverly, one day in the not too distant future, you will be mine and then you will know the true meaning of ecstasy!”  
She grinned at her reflection as she licked her fingers clean. She turned away, then hesitated and looked over her shoulder at her image.  
“And that fucking piece of shit who’s been defiling your gorgeous cunt with his disgusting cock will be dead.”  
She strode on her new long legs to the bathroom where she took a leisurely shower, then spent almost an hour slowly rubbing hormonal creams into every centimetre of her body. It was so exquisitely sensuous she almost came again. Although she had an implant that prevented menstruation and ovulation, the creams would keep her skin soft and supple and the nerve ends all over her body, numbering in the millions, which the surgeons had so cleverly increased the sensitivity of, needed to have thinner skin in which to be at their most useful. And that, of course, was while having sex. Meredith’s clit had also been enlarged. She had turned her new body into a vessel designed for sexual pleasure. All she needed was the one person she desired to bring it to its full potential. Beverly Crusher.

 

Still officially off duty, Beverly was becoming very bored. It was as if her extraordinary time spent with Jean-Luc the day before had released her from some kind of cage. The sex had helped too, banishing the pallor she’d had and giving her a feeling of rejuvenation. However she seemed to be perpetually aroused. Although he didn’t drop by, he called at ten, then again at fifteen hundred. She smiled to herself; he sounded so normal, no trace in his voice to give any hint of what they’d shared, either emotionally or physically. Just friendly solicitousness.   
Knowing him as she did, and having lived with him for some time, she knew he customarily ate his evening meal at about nineteen-thirty, but she wanted to be with him. Having checked the roster, she knew his shift ended at eighteen hundred, so she was in his quarters at ten to.  
Happily ensconced in the depths of the sofa, she didn’t make a sound or move when the doors parted and he strode in, head bowed, PADD in hand, obviously absorbed in something or other.  
As she knew he would, he went straight into his bedroom and within minutes she heard the shower running. To her knowledge, only the captain had a right to a water shower, she’d only got hers as a favour, albeit slightly against regulations.  
She closed her eyes and let her mind wander, imagining him washing his gorgeous body. Years of habit made him not dally in the shower; in fact she had taken some time to talk him into incorporating the shower into their sex life. It wasn’t that he was averse; it was just his ingrained training to be able to respond at a moment’s notice to any situation. Sometimes Beverly cursed his rank.  
He emerged soon enough, casually dressed in dark blue slacks, a white linen shirt, buttoned up the front, but with the collar open and with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and of course, he was bare foot.  
Still somewhat preoccupied and a creature of habit, he turned to his right, moving to the drink cabinet when he suddenly halted. As Beverly watched with an amused smile, his nostrils flared as if he was picking up a scent. He slowly turned his head in her direction and a small smile appeared, although he didn’t move.  
“I gave you that perfume two years ago...for your birthday.”  
She spoke for the first time.  
“And it remains my favourite.”  
He continued to the cabinet and poured what Beverly new would be a generous measure of pure single malt scotch, probably the Cardhu. In silence he went to the replicator and spoke very softly, the tinkling in his tumbler proof of his order for ice. Her eyes tracked him as he crossed the room, the tumbler in his right hand of course and he lowered himself into his chair, letting his head fall back and allowing a long breath to escape.   
Beverly sighed with a type of contentment she found hard to either define or describe. Instead of dwelling on it, she said softly,  
“Hello, Jean-Luc.”  
He brought his head up and smiled, his dark eyes twinkling. “Hello, Beverly.”  
As he took a long sip of his scotch and closed his eyes in appreciation, Beverly asked,  
“Hard day?”  
He snorted and lifted his tumbler, turning it in his hand and watching the ice move.  
“You’ve no idea.”  
“Command giving you a hard time? Or is our next mission really tricky?”  
He chuckled and shook his head.  
“If only! God, there were times today when I’d have welcomed a surly Romulan or a bloody Ferengi trying to negotiate a price for the ship!”  
This was something new and Beverly wasn’t sure what to make of it.  
“So...what’s bugging you? You’re acting like you’ve been flat out all day.”  
He sighed, took another long sip and lowered his head.  
“Beverly, all I could think of...all bloody day...was what we did yesterday! I’ve had a damned erection the entire shift that would not go away! I’ve been in my Ready Room the entire shift. God knows what Will thinks I was doing in there all day!”  
Now Beverly was amused. “Well why didn’t you...take care of it?”  
“I did! But the damned thing had a mind of its bloody own and kept coming back!”  
He looked over at Beverly, expecting to see at least a modicum of sympathy, but all he saw was the red head making a very poor effort to contain her laughter. He scowled and when Beverly finally got control she explained,  
“Oh, Jean-Luc, I’ve spent most of my day spread eagled on my bed taking care of my own...needs. Shit, I probably wore my clit out!”  
He muttered, “Christ! Now it’s bloody back again!”  
Batting her eyes, Beverly said coquettishly,  
“Do you have an erection, Jean-Luc?”  
His scowl deepened. “Stop it, Beverly, it’s not bloody funny! My balls are aching.”  
His expression suddenly changed and his eyes narrowed. She knew that particular look.  
“Uh huh, Jean-Luc. We agreed.”  
He closed his eyes, tilted his head and screwed his face up.  
“Oh, come on, Beverly! For fuck’s sake, can’t we at least do what we did yesterday?”  
Becoming very uncomfortable herself, Beverly said quietly, “If you knew how badly I wanted to leap over the coffee table and drag you to the floor, rip our clothes off and fuck our brains out, you’d shut up! You think you’re the only one who wants it? Jesus! I want you so bad I ache inside!”  
Tossing the remainder of his drink down his throat, Jean-Luc rested the tumbler on his right knee as he let his head fall back and closed his eyes. They both sat in brittle silence, the sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Eventually, Jean-Luc said huskily,  
“I can smell you. You’re wet.”  
Equally huskily, Beverly muttered, “And I can smell you, Jean-Luc. Musk and...fresh sweat.”  
His eyes screwed more tightly shut,  
“Oh, God, Beverly, I’m so hard!”  
Closing her own eyes, Beverly breathed through her nose, saying quietly.  
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll sit here, you stay in your chair and we’ll both...”  
“No! I want to touch you...feel you...”  
“No, we stay right where we are! It’s that, or I leave and we take care of ourselves on our own.”  
He was undoing his straining trousers as he muttered sourly,  
“Jesus, Beverly!”  
He was already spreading the precome over the head as Beverly pushed her panties down. As her fingers slid over her clit she winced but didn’t stop. Jean-Luc too was sore, but he paid it no heed, using both hands to stroke himself, making sure one hand went right up and over the sensitive head.  
For both of them it was over in mere minutes and it barely scratched the surface of their appetite. In fact, although he softened a bit, Jean-Luc was still half-hard.  
“Please tell me there’s more?”  
Gritting her teeth as she eased her fingers out of her sex, Beverly said in an unsteady voice.  
“Okay, after dinner, maybe we can do each other.”  
His look was so imploring, Beverly almost gave in. “Oh, God, Beverly, I so want to be deep inside you when we come.”  
“I know,” She was still out of breath. “It’ll be worth the wait, I promise. Just a little longer, Jean-Luc...please?”  
He nodded, but his disappointment and frustration were easy to see.  
“Come on,” Said Beverly, standing and pulling up her panties. “I’ll help you get cleaned up.”  
He shook his head. “No, it’d be better if you didn’t touch me, Beverly.”  
Holding his trousers up with one hand and his semi-hard penis hanging outside, he made his way awkwardly into the bathroom. While he was busy, Beverly used the sonic cleaner to wash her hands, then set about laying the table and was at the replicator when Jean-Luc reappeared in fresh clothing. He seemed calmer and Beverly instinctively knew he’d masturbated again.  
“Okay now?”  
He nodded and even offered a wry smile. “Is it possible to wear a penis out?”  
“Ha! If it is, then it must be possible for my clit to be ground to dust!”  
To that he snorted and they let the matter drop. After dinner he surprised her by sitting beside her instead of in his usual chair. Beverly was further intrigued when he took her hand and kissed her palm. He spoke very softly and with great feeling.  
“Beverly, I know I’ve already said it, but I want you to know how sorry I am about the baby.”  
A sad smile graced Beverly’s features and she sighed.  
“It just wasn’t meant to be, I suppose.”  
“Yes, I accept that,” Jean-Luc’s deep voice had roughened with emotion. “But we not only lost our child, but I nearly lost you and considering the state of our relationship...such as it was then...Beverly...if I’d lost you...I don’t think I could’ve gone on.”  
Confused, concerned and alarmed, Beverly looked into Jean-Luc’s eyes and said softly, almost too frightened to ask,  
“What exactly do you mean?”  
He shrugged.  
“Life would have had no meaning for me without you, Beverly.” When he saw the alarm on her face, he was quick to allay her fears.  
“No, not that!” He sighed. “If I’d lost you, I probably would’ve retired and gone somewhere quiet to live out the rest of my life, alone.”  
“You’d have given up your captaincy...Starfleet?”  
“Yes. It wouldn’t mean anything without you in my life any more, Beverly, especially the way we were at that time. If I’d lost you then, while we were so angry and hurt with each other...it would’ve destroyed me.”  
Lifting her hand, Beverly gently laid it on Jean-Luc’s cheek.  
“Oh, Jean-Luc, I’m so sorry.”  
“Don’t be, my love. But still, we lost our baby and although I know how sad that made me feel, I can only imagine what you must’ve gone through.”  
She smiled bravely, but her eyes filled with tears.  
“It’s was so ironic. There we were, almost hating each other, and yet inside me was proof of our love. Poor little thing, it never had a chance.”  
They were quiet for a time, just gaining comfort in each other’s presence. It was Jean-Luc who said , “Beverly, your offer of having a child...were you motivated to make it to placate me, to ease my sorrow or are you really serious?”  
Her smile was a bright one, making her eyes sparkle.  
“Jean-Luc, I can’t think of a better way of making our love for each other permanent than to create a child...or children with that very love! I’m not some infatuated young woman with stars in my eyes, Jean-Luc. If we do this, it’s going to be bloody hard! I’m going to have to undergo fertility treatments and a plethora of tests and examinations, but I think it’s worth it! Don’t you?”  
His answer was obviously one he’d given a great deal of thought to.  
“Yes.” He said, but cautiously. “But there’s more to it for me, you know that.”  
“Ah...” Beverly grinned wickedly. “Your agenda!”  
He snorted. “Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that, but yes, I do have more reason than just a physical manifestation of our love in having a child...or children and I have to wonder if the inherent risks to you are worth it.”  
Beverly considered what he’d said and shrugged.  
“Either way, I want to do it. I’m certain. The only thing I need to know is...do you want to as well? Are you certain?”  
He looked deeply into Beverly’s eyes and tried to swallow the lump in his throat to speak. In the end he was reduced to whispering.  
“Yes, with all my heart, yes!”  
She smiled, her eyes bright.  
“Then now, Jean-Luc, now we can make love.”  
His look was one of joy and confusion. “Oh, God, you know how much I want that, but Beverly, you’re almost menopausal. Surely you have to start treatments before...”  
“To get pregnant, yes.” She smiled and stood, holding out her hand in invitation. “But up here,” She tapped her temple. “We’re ready, Jean-Luc. We’ve finally reached a point of equilibrium, both mental and physical.”  
Cradling her face in his hands with breathtaking gentleness, Jean-Luc whispered,  
“I am going to give you everything I am, Beverly. You will have my body, my heat, my mind and my soul.”  
They kissed and it was like nothing either had ever experienced before. Yes, there was passion, but tenderness and an ethereal quality neither could define. It seemed to lift them bodily and spiritually.  
“And you, my love, will fill me, take me and complete me for the first time in my life. I give myself to you, Jean-Luc. I am now and forever yours.”

 

Leaving the chic office, Meredith smiled smugly. She was now the proud owner of a very useful, powerful, compact and specifically customised, modestly small spacecraft. Her next visit was going to require a certain amount of guile, and, she hoped, violence. She was just in the right mood.  
Having walked the streets of the capital in her long strides that seemed to eat the distance, she found herself in a very secluded, affluent gated enclave. Showing the computer a false identity chip, the scanner recorded its details, then after only a second or two, the gates swung silently open. She snorted derisively to herself.  
“Fucking idiots, not even video surveillance.”  
Meredith had already memorised where she had to go and who she was to see. The thing was, the individual was expecting someone else entirely. She knew he was going to be very surprised. She easily gained entry into the sumptuously appointed office foyer and made a mental note that people who thought a gate and a computer would offer adequate protection really didn’t deserve to live. They were simply too gullible...and stupid.  
The electronic lock on the inner door proved just as easy to overcome as had the outer doors. The being sitting behind his impressive metal desk didn’t even look up, but waved vaguely in the direction of a chair in front of the desk.  
“Make yourself comfortable, I will be with you momentarily.”  
Ignoring the invitation, Meredith continued around the desk on her silent feet and the first thing the being knew about his fatal mistake was when she put one hand across his clammy forehead and yanked his head back, the cold metal blade of her trusty knife, which she had become quite fond of, pressed hard enough against the skin of his throat that it drew a trickle of puce blood. She bent low as the being was quite squat and said softly into the hole in the side of his head where his hearing organ was,  
“I want the schedule for the Starship, USS Enterprise, 1701E for the next four months and I want it now. If you don’t give me what I want by the time I count to five, I will cut your head clean off your shoulders.”  
She pressed a little harder and the blade bit deeper, but this rotund, short being had far more nerve than she’d given him credit for.  
“Five hundred bars. And that’s a bargain.”  
She couldn’t help but feel admiration. She snorted softly and shook her head, her eyes flicking to her reflection in the highly polished surface of the desk.  
“Oh...so beautiful!”She whispered, making her captive frown. Brought back to the present, Meredith said with a trace of amusement.  
“It’s interesting that you think you can name a price, bargain or not. The thing is, what is your life worth? You see, I’m not going to pay you. Not five hundred bars, not even one bar. But...I might let you live if you give me what I want.”  
Before the being could respond, Meredith put her mouth closer to the being’s ear hole and teased the tip of her tongue into the orifice. “One.” Her tongue began to extrude, not only lengthening but narrowing and becoming rigid. The tip formed into a sharp, hard point which Meredith pushed deeper into the hearing organ. Around her tongue, Meredith said quietly, “Two.”  
The being began to sweat heavily, making Meredith wrinkle her nose in disgust. His odour was putrid. Deeper into his ear went her tongue and he began to make grunting noises. A dark stain coloured his pants as his bladder voided.  
“Three.”   
Obviously in agony, the being slapped his broad hand down on the desk, the noise louder than even his animalistic grunts.  
“Does that mean we have a deal?” She asked amicably.  
Not daring to move and in unspeakable agony, he merely blinked. Meredith left her extraordinary tongue deep inside the being’s ear organ for a few seconds, just to make sure her point had been made, then slowly withdrew it. Still with the knife at his throat, she eased his head forward so he could see his hands.  
“How long?” Her tone was quite conversational.  
His mouth was so dry he could barely speak.  
“An hour, maybe a little longer.”  
“Then you’d best get busy.”  
If he thought she’d release him, he was mistaken. Not only did the knife stay at his throat, but Meredith amused herself by darting her tongue in and out of his bleeding ear hole, just deep enough to make him grunt in pain each time. The top of his desk became an interactive screen and his remarkably nimble hands worked at an astonishing speed accessing level after level of encrypted firewalls until, after almost an hour and a half, he finally gulped and shook some of the sweat off his face. Lucky for him, none of the droplets landed on Meredith.  
“You have it?”  
He nodded. She reached inside her shirt and gave him an isolinear chip. She didn’t have to tell him what to do. The information was downloaded and he breathed what he thought was a sigh of relief. But his ordeal was far from over.  
“Now I want you to erase every trace of what you’ve just done.”  
Panic showed in his eye.  
“It won’t make any difference. The access would’ve triggered a flag in central Command’s security protocols. They might not know who did it, but they will know someone’s been in and the schedules of all Starfleet ships will be automatically changed.”  
Taking a deep breath to keep calm, Meredith couldn’t believe he thought she could be so easily lied to.  
“You and I both know that’s not true. Let me tell you a little secret. I have been to see the Fen.”  
At the mention of that name, the being defecated. Meredith ignored the sickening odour and smiled.  
“So you see, I’ve had a download of my own. Look...see? Here?”  
She turned her head and he knew where to look. Just below her new ear on the left side of her naked head was a tiny metal hole. She turned back, and grinned, displaying her new large, white perfect teeth.  
“My portal! Isn’t it beautiful?”   
His single eye looked into her unnaturally bright blue eyes and he saw madness. If he was going to survive this he was going to have to be extraordinarily clever.  
“I know all kinds of things now. I might even have been able to do what you just did, but maybe not as fast and I must admit...time is of the essence. So, are you going to do as I ask, or am I going to have to...persuade you?” She pushed her tongue into his ear and the grunt took on a squealing sound.  
His hands flew over the screen and a blue icon appeared. The Greek symbol of Omega.  
“Excellent! Oh, I’m so pleased. Thank you so much.” She kissed the top of his head. “You’ve been so helpful, I really should pay you somehow.”  
His head was pulled back so quickly he had no time to prepare. Such was her strength and the sharpness of her blade; it took only three slices before his head fell with a hollow thud onto the desktop. To avoid the distasteful spurting blood, Meredith was careful to make sure the headless body was pushed back in its chair. Casting a careful look over herself to make sure she was still pristinely clean. She turned and walked to the door. Turning, she blew a kiss at the corpse.  
“Five hundred bars! Ha! Nice doing business with you.” Happy and humming to herself, her body almost sizzling with pent up sexual tension, she slipped the chip into her pocket and, once in the foyer, spoke to a sub dermal implant in her wrist.  
“Computer, transport me aboard.”

 

The love Jean-Luc and Beverly made was like nothing either had ever experienced before. It wasn’t that it was more physically intense or ecstatic, but there seemed to be some kind of cerebral connection, indeed, for most of the time, they kept their foreheads touching. At orgasm, which was extremely intense, they both sensed a blending of their psyches. When the effects of their orgasms waned, they were left in a euphoric state, both mental and physical. Where in the past Jean-Luc had often been able, after fifteen minutes or so, achieve another erection, not only was he unable to, he didn’t want to and neither did Beverly want or wish for more penetrative lovemaking.  
The skin covering their entire bodies was super-sensitive and lying still joined, they very gently caressed each other, but it wasn’t sexual, it was an expression of their love, another way of proving the evidence of their new connection. How Beverly had been able to so correctly predict this was possible between them, Jean-Luc didn’t know, nor did he care because while they lay together he had never felt so at peace in his life before and, to his immense joy and contentment, he knew innately neither had Beverly.  
In all the classical literature he’d read there had been hints, clues that in some couples this exact phenomenon was possible, but he’d always assumed it was abstract, the author’s idealised perception of what pure love might...or could be. Never had he ever thought it might be real, that it could actually exist. But as his eyes wandered over Beverly’s face, imprinting her image in his mind as if he’d never seen her before, he realised not only how blind he’d been, but how terribly ignorant!  
If only he’d seen with more than his eyes, listened with more than his ears and felt with more than his brain, then perhaps this wise, extraordinary women who lay by his side, holding within her emotional grasp his very essence, he might have discovered this state of grace a long time ago.   
Morning found them sound asleep, spooned and still sated in a way that left them intensely satisfied. It was when Jean-Luc sighed and tightened his grip of Beverly’s torso that he woke. She seemed to sense this and slowly stirred. As their bodies moved against each other, they both became aware the intense sensitivity remained. Beverly turned over, the sensation making them both gasp. Without a word spoken, their gaze locked, they caressed each other until, after only a few minutes, Jean-Luc climaxed forcefully. Beverly had not even touched his penis; in fact he wasn’t even aware he was hard. His orgasm seemed to trigger something in Beverly; she stared into Jean-Luc’s eyes as, despite recovering from his remarkable orgasm, he still gently ran his fingertips lightly over her breasts. She came just as he’d done, unexpectedly and intensely. He’d not touched her nipples; indeed neither of them had touched each other in an overtly or deliberately sexual manner.  
When he could speak, Jean-Luc’s eyes showed his curiosity.  
“I don’t understand.” He whispered. “What has happened to us?”  
Her gaze intense, Beverly frowned.  
“I don’t know if it has a name. If it does, I certainly don’t know it, but the only thing that comes to my mind to describe it is...soul mates.”  
They were quiet for a time before Beverly asked softly,  
“Do you believe in fate, Jean-Luc?”  
Still with their gaze locked, he sighed.  
“I don’t know...I don’t think so.”  
“Really? You don’t think we were destined to be together?” There was no hurt in Beverly’s voice, merely curiosity.  
“I have spent most of my life in space.” He said quietly, obviously choosing his words carefully. “I have seen both chaos and order in the minute parts of the universe I’ve seen, and in the science of what little we know so far but one thing is clear to me and that is life is too random for any...plan, divine or predestined. So the existence of something called fate? I can’t make it fit with what I’ve experienced so far.”  
Before Beverly could say anything, Jean-Luc offered a gentle smile.  
“Until last night and now. I have no explanation, certainly no scientific one for what has happened to us, Beverly, for what we’ve become. Is it fate? Were we destined for each other? I don’t know.” He sighed and briefly closed his eyes.  
“But having said that, I have to admit there is some kind of sense to be made if one takes one’s life’s experiences, good and bad as preparation for something. In some, it might occur early in their lives and in others they may have to wait...” He smiled. “And maybe it’s the waiting makes the end result that much more profound.”  
Beverly smiled wistfully and gently kissed her lover. Parting, she said,  
“I have always admired you’re eloquence, Jean-Luc, but I don’t think even you can really put into words what we have found.”  
“No.’ He agreed. “There are times, not often mind, but yes, there are times when languages are manifestly inadequate to describe some things.” He shrugged. “At least in the languages I know.” His smiled ruefully.  
Kissing the tip of his nose, Beverly asked curiously,  
“How many languages do you know?”  
“You mean fluently?”  
“Uh huh.”  
“Oh, well. Um...as far as Earth’s are concerned, French...”   
Beverly sniggered and rolled her eyes. “Of course.”  
He grinned. “Standard, called English when I was young, Italian, Greek, ancient and modern, Latin, Spanish, German and a smattering of Mandarin.”  
Obviously impressed, Beverly pulled down her mouth and nodded.  
“And other worlds?”  
“Within the Federation?”  
Rolling her eyes again, she sighed.  
“Yes.”  
“Betazed, Vulcan, Andorian, Tellarite, Klingon and I can get by in Bolian and Ferengi...although they’re not really in the Federation, they just have a bloody annoying habit of showing up all the damned time.”  
Now truly impressed, Beverly had to ask, “And outside the Federation?”  
Feeling a little embarrassed, Jean-Luc shrugged. “Ah...I can get by in Cardassian, Romulan and Tholian.”  
“How is it you can do that? My God, that’s...nineteen languages!”  
He shrugged again. “At home, until I was about five, I spoke nothing but French. My father insisted on it and wouldn’t allow either Robert or me to utilise the standard introductory lessons in English. It was an impediment when I first began school; because of course all the other students were bilingual. It was my mother who organised my first language teacher, an Englishman called Nigel Harris. It turned out I had such an ‘ear’ for languages that I very quickly learned to speak English, but not only the language, but with the accent of my teacher. I was the only student in my school who spoke English without a French accent, which, I might add did not make me very popular with my fellow male students...but the girls liked it, they thought me quite exotic.”  
They both chuckled.  
“But by the time I went to the Academy it just caused confusion. I was the young man with the French name from France who spoke Standard with a perfect English accent. It was in the Academy that I stared to pick up the other Earth languages from the other cadets. And, like English, I imitated what I heard, thus enabling me to speak their languages like a native. It really used to annoy some of them.” He sighed and briefly closed his eyes.  
“Of course, ancient Greek and Latin were on the syllabus, so that was a given. The other Federation languages I either picked up at the Academy or in my travels. The outside languages...well, let’s just say that as a ship’s Captain, it comes in handy. But really, it’s just something I can do.”  
Beverly sighed, her eyes beginning to droop.  
“You are a remarkable man, Jean-Luc. Somehow there always seems to be more and more to discover about you.”  
Before she slipped into sleep, she murmured,  
“I hope our kids inherit your abilities.”  
Jean-Luc frowned at his now sleeping lover. They were lying on sheets wet with his semen and she didn’t seem to care, so with a shrug, Jean-Luc settled on the pillow, closed his eyes and relaxed. He never felt the quick, gentle transition into slumber.

 

Meredith was hunting again and the prospect of her next meeting made her ache with arousal. Her visit to the Fen had cost her almost every bar of latinum she had left, but it was worth it and she was now on her way to addressing her current deplorable state of financial affairs.  
As she sat naked in the cockpit of her new craft sensuously rubbing in the hormone creams, she allowed her mind to wander back to the extraordinary experience that was the Fen. But then she frowned, her eyes slitting as she wondered yet again just who...or what the Fen was. Because she’d not actually seen anyone.  
It had been extraordinarily difficult just to discover his/her/its existence let alone find a way to get into contact. She huffed. And damned expensive too, but when she found herself outside the nondescript building in the outskirts of a mildly large city on a planet just outside Federation space, she felt a slither of fear slide up and down her newly lengthened spine. It both thrilled her and angered her. No one could make Meredith Bower frightened! Swallowing the unwanted feelings, she inspected the door, but found nothing. No annunciator to press, no code pad, not even so much as an old-fashioned knocker. She took a step back and scrutinised the surrounds. Nothing. The door was seamless and there appeared to be no surveillance apparatus of any kind, at least none that she could detect by sight or sense. Of course her instructions had been to arrive dressed in nothing but a one-piece overall and sandals. No underwear, no adornments and absolutely no technology in the way of scanners or communicators. She had even been instructed to forego her creams and to make sure her hairless scalp was clean.  
She stood outside the door, growing increasingly impatient. The new Meredith Bower was not accustomed to being kept waiting. She had arrived at the appointed time and fully expected to be seen immediately. Ten long minutes passed and, in the gathering gloom of an approaching rain episode, she spat on the enigmatic door, spun on her heel and took two long strides before she felt the subtle change of atmosphere behind her. She stopped and turned to see the door was now open.   
She approached cautiously, but the interior was so dark she couldn’t see inside. Again the frisson of fear skittered through her, but she savagely shoved it aside. Chin up and broad shoulders squared, she stepped boldly inside, every sense on alert.  
The door shut so silently that Meredith was only aware it had happened when she felt an alteration in the air pressure. About to try and leave, a soft light came on overhead. A quick inspection showed her she was in a small empty ante room, the walls, ceiling, floors and the two doors she could see all the same neutral beige colour. The door opposite opened silently and a softly accented, but obviously computer generated voice instructed her to enter.  
She did so and found herself in a slightly bigger room, just as devoid of features as the ante room. But sitting in the exact centre of the room was a surgical chair with an overhead bright light and the sight of it sent a bolt of sharp desire deep into Meredith’s newly tightened and elongated vagina.  
The voice, which she couldn’t decide was male or female quietly instructed her to sit in the chair and to place her wrists and ankles in the recesses provided. Every instinct told her to turn and leave immediately, but if what she’d heard about the Fen and what he/she/it could do were true, she wanted it almost as much as she wanted Beverly.  
Doing as she had been told, she was surprised to find the chair padded and warm. Relaxing slightly, she let her head rest back but when a metal clamp suddenly snaked out and gripped her around the forehead she called out.  
“No!” But even as the word left her mouth, her wrists and ankles were similarly tightly immobilised. Striving for calm, Meredith said evenly, “I do not require restraint. I can stand considerable pain.”  
That was the last thing she remembered. When she next opened her eyes she was prone, lying on a moderately soft surface, naked and covered in a soft warm blanket. She was on her back without a pillow and her head was being held in place by three clamps. There was no pain. It was completely black, she had no idea where she was, in fact it was with some surprise that she realised she had no idea who she was. She closed her eyes and again, there is no memory of what happened next.  
It was through her eye lids that she discerned the light. Her eyes opened and she blinked several times. A soft voice sounded in her mind.  
“The reboot and download will now commence.”  
Slack-jawed and barely conscious, all Meredith’s memories came flooding back, even those which had been lying encoded but inaccessible as they were created so early in her life. But...and this is what she’d come for, travelled so far and paid so much for, information began to download. It was as if an enormous library, containing detailed information on every subject somehow compacted into a series of pulses that were delivered into several different parts of Meredith’s brain. And, as a special part of her...agreement, (at extra cost of course), details of the lives of Beverly Crusher and Jean-Luc Picard were included. Every known fact and even every slightly substantiated rumour about them was inputted.   
The download took five hours and it wasn’t until a mechanical arm gently disconnected a thin metal tube from a new tiny portal under her left ear that the voice said,  
“Download complete. Wait while integration occurs. In the event of rejection, euthanasia will take place and cadaver disposal will be as agreed.”  
The words registered, but Meredith didn’t react. She simply remained seated? Lying? While the process commenced.

 

On the craft, Meredith suddenly became aware she’d been sitting absolutely still, her right hand motionless on her thigh, caught in the process of rubbing in the creams. It was then that she realised she didn’t actually remember what happened between that time and when she found herself lying in a bed in a modest hotel in the centre of the city. How she’d got there, who had dressed her, she had no idea. She had slowly sat up, feeling quite normal, apart from a mild headache. It wasn’t until she was in the shower that she abruptly grabbed her head and gasped as information began to crowd into her thoughts at a phenomenal rate. Random facts, images, experiences...everything from art to literature to mechanics, science, architecture, everything known to exist, the sum total of humankind’s knowledge now resided, in an abridged fashion in Meredith’s brain. She staggered and fell, as if the weight of all this knowledge was too great for her to physically bear. She had no idea how long she sat crumpled in the shower, but eventually she managed to shut the water off and crawl into the bedroom and onto the bed. There she lay for four days, while her mind accustomed itself and learned to cope, her body carried on as usual, urinating and defecating as it needed to.  
Meredith would never be sure just what it was that brought her back, integrating body and mind, but as soon as she realised she was one again her first action was to slake her raging thirst.  
That done, she bundled the filthy bedding and disposed of it before taking another shower and, after eating a light meal, with her possessions residing elsewhere, made her way back to her original lodgings.  
Now she had a new mission. Her very subtle enquiries had unearthed a Ferengi known for two things. His penchant for keeping his staggering wealth at his home and his seemingly insatiable appetite for sex with very young children, species negotiable as was gender, although rumour had it he did prefer females. Meredith knew his palatial household was staffed by several Ferengi females, some married to him and all kept naked and enslaved as per Ferengi tradition. Resuming her pleasurable application of the cream, Meredith lifted her long toned leg and placed her foot on the cockpit console. She spent a moment or two admiring the play of her muscles under the golden skin, a wistful smile on her face. She had but one stop to make on her way to Ferenginar. Her new-found knowledge told her exactly what was required and, if she was right, her target would have no idea just what he was being exposed to...providing she was successful. Nothing like possessing the right kind of bait.

 

Nrug leaned back in his chair, his small sunken eyes closed as his hands gripped the waist of the naked young female child whose half-slitted eyes showed her drugged state. With one wife standing each side of him, giving him expert umox, he lifted up, then pulled down the child, his penis embedded in her. Boldly, the wife on his right side said in a whiney voice,  
“Why is it drugged? You usually like them to wriggle and cry.”  
Nrug kept his eyes closed but the lazy slap to his wife’s face showed she had annoyed him. However he did deign to answer her. “This one is a Kellen you stupid female and at this age they are very tight. If I hadn’t drugged her, it would’ve meant expending far too much energy to subdue her. I don’t do this for the exercise! I just want to fuck her, not fight her! Have you seen her claws?”  
Blood had dribbled from the young female and covered Nrug’s groin. He stared down at it and smiled. “See? Proof of my prowess! I am so large I have penetrated so deep she bleeds! When I am finished with her, I want you two to wash her, then tie her up with the others. Later today, I will want her again, but this time, no drugs. Now that she has had me inside her, she will want me again!”  
The wife on the left, careful to continue the umox, reached down to gently fondle Nrug’s balls. He kept his measured lifting and lowering of the little female, but gave his wife a suspicious look.  
“What are you doing?”  
She bobbed her head and smiled, her snaggle teeth protruding at odd angles.  
“It has been a long time since you visited my bed.” She said in what she hoped was a seductive tone. Ignoring his wife, Nrug closed his eyes and suddenly stood before kneeling, then lying down, the little female under him. With frenzied movements, he shoved himself in and out of her before abruptly grunting. He was panting as he pulled his penis from the violated child and turned to glare at his wife.  
“You are old and ugly! Why would I come to your bed, when I can have something young, fresh and unopened like that?” He pointed down at the bleeding whimpering child. He was climbing to his feet and hitching up his pants when another naked Ferengi female came to him and bowed low. He ignored her while he watched his wives lift the child from the floor and take her away. Raising his voice he reminded them,  
“I want her clean and alert!” He then turned and sneered at the bowing woman.  
“What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?” Before he put his bloodied penis back into his pants, he went to the bowing female and wiped himself on the back of her bald head. She made no protest and didn’t move until Nrug was comfortable and once again seated in his favourite chair. Shuffling forward, she said quietly,  
“I have news.”  
Normally, Nrug would’ve either dismissed her, or, if he felt in the mood, raped her. She was still quite young and for a Ferengi, quite attractive. He watched as she began to tremble, enjoying her fear as she tried to anticipate what it was he intended to do. He decided to amuse himself.  
“Come closer.”  
She shuffled nearer to him but not close enough for his liking. He grabbed the small nipple of her still forming breast and pulled cruelly.  
“I said, come here!”  
Tugged forwards, she fell between his open knees. He stared down at her for a moment or two, savouring her fear. When he spoke his grating voice showed his desire.   
“Take it out and suck it.”  
With trembling hands, the female undid his brightly coloured pants and lifted out his flaccid penis. For such a small being he was very well endowed. While she did as he ordered, he reached into the pocket of his vividly adorned coat and pulled out a hypospray. Injecting himself, his erection was almost instant. He studied the hypo and offered a humourless chuckle.  
“Who would’ve thought that Federation scientists would be responsible for such wonderful sexual stimulants!”  
He suddenly stood, pushing the female off balance. His penis slipped from her mouth and he snarled, aiming a vicious kick at her crotch with his booted foot. She cried out but had no further way to articulate her pain as he fell on her, one hand going around her throat, the other used to hold his penis while he forced it inside her. It was only the second time she’d had sex and it hurt, but even though a novice she knew to keep quiet and still. Any sound she made, especially those of pain or distress or any movement that made him aware of the pain he was causing only spurred him to more cruelty. Barely able to breathe, she endured the violation until, thankfully, he grunted loudly and ejaculated. But what he did next both surprised her and disgusted her. He pulled out and straddled her chest, masturbating, until he suddenly said with a nasty leer,  
“Open your mouth!”  
She did and he ejaculated into her mouth, some of the semen spurting over her nose and eyes. When he stayed hard, she knew her ordeal was not yet over. However, he seemed content, at least for a while, to let her speak. Releasing the hold on her throat, she knew not to cough or show any discomfort, but she couldn’t keep the raspiness out of her voice when she all but whispered,  
“Qwet has made his report.”  
“And?”  
“She is on her way.”  
“How close? Where is she?”  
“Qwet reports she stopped somewhere, but he’s not certain where or for how long.”  
Nrug grinned evilly. “Acquiring a present for me, no doubt.”  
The female nodded. “There has been a report of a young female child having been abducted, but from where he doesn’t know, but the information he has suggests it’s a Deltan.”  
The Ferengi sneered. “A fucking waste of time! Everyone knows the Deltan females don’t produce their famous fucking pheromones until they reach breeding age! And then they’re too fucking old! Stupid alien female! She’s supposed to know what I like!”  
Nrug grabbed her throat again and squeezed just enough to make breathing very difficult.  
“I asked you where she is!”  
He didn’t release the pressure, so the female couldn’t answer him. He knew this of course, he was simply amusing himself.  
“You go a lovely colour when I do this.” He said conversationally. “I like it.”  
Reluctantly, he let her go. She took a chance and swallowed. By the look on his face she knew she would pay for such a lapse.  
“Qwet estimates she is two days away.” She rasped.  
Nrug once again gripped the female’s throat, making her face darken and her piggy eyes bulge. She was no longer able to breathe at all. He moved down her body and shoved himself inside her. While he began to thrust so hard they actually moved across the polished tiled floor, he said idly, between grunts, “I haven’t fucked an adult alien female before. This will prove very...interesting.”  
He was so preoccupied that he didn’t realise the female had died. He kept on thrusting until he came. On finding her dead, he pulled out and climbed to his feet, bellowing, “Get this fucking thing out of here!”  
Two naked females scurried into the room and began to drag the body away. Nrug sneered, saying scornfully, “Get me another one! And younger! And I want the Kellen brought to me immediately!” He lifted his still erect cock and held it reverently in both hands. Staring down at it with admiration, affection and adoration he muttered, “I’m not going to waste a perfectly good, magnificent hard cock! That stimulant will keep me hard for at least another hour. Lucky little girls!”

 

Meredith’s new abilities, thanks to her prodigious knowledge, allowed her to access the main computer banks of the Ferenginar Board of Commerce, the most powerful body on the planet. Her infiltration went unnoticed, as were the extensive rearrangements and additions of information she instigated. Having done all she wanted, she exited and utilising the myriad of fibre optic connections was soon perusing Nrug’s personal computer. She grinned at the prodigious security he’d employed to protect the most deeply hidden files, but it was child’s play to access them. Now armed with everything she needed to know and having achieved her goals, she cruised through his employees...male of course...looking for and finding Qwet’s computer. Like Nrug, he’d made quite an effort to keep his business private and when Meredith discovered Nrug was not only aware of her existence, but was preparing for her arrival, she wasn’t surprised and the predatory smile that emerged would’ve chilled the blood of any sane being.  
“So, my little friend. You want to play a game? Good! I like games!” She sighed happily. “You think you’re ready for me? Ha! This should be fun.”  
A quiet noise from aft of the cockpit made Meredith sigh. Rising gracefully, the naked woman went to her little passenger and stroked her bright purple hair. “Don’t worry, I know you’re impatient, but soon we’ll arrive and once I take care of one or two things, you and I will pay a little visit to your new toy.” Meredith smiled, appreciating the predatory gleam in the young female’s bright orange eyes. “Yes, that’s right, the one I’ve told you about, the one who takes children from their families and fucks the little boys and girls, sometimes killing them for no other reason than that he’s a perverted little fucker.”  
The female child whimpered impatiently again and Meredith summoned a cold smile. The female was only five human years old, but her species was extremely sexual. They were born sexually aware and from infancy, engaged in sexual play with either gender until reaching breeding age at six. Although their reproduction was achieved by penetrative sex, it was by mutual agreement which of the two partners gestated the developing offspring. Both male and female ejaculated at orgasm and both possessed the organs for gestation. Like the marsupials of Earth, the developing embryo emerged not fully formed from a sphincter just under the chest region and with the gentle assistance of the chosen gestator; the grub-like immature creature was eased into a pouch where the rest of the development occurred. In all, from conception to emergence from the pouch, was only three human months. Even as soon as a week or two old, either gender could be calmed by the parents gently masturbating them and, although they would be too young to ejaculate, they still achieved a form of orgasm. On Merran, the home planet of this species, genital caressing was the most common form of greeting, stress relief and play. Sex was so important to the Merrans, especially the importance of both partner’s enjoyment of the act that being told an alien was abducting the young of many species to violate for no better reason that to satisfy lust, was abhorrent. Although the Merrans were generally friendly and not particularly aggressive, if denied sex with a fellow Merran for too long, or when faced with a situation where they found themselves in a position to right a terrible wrong, they could be absolutely merciless and ferocious in the extreme. And, just because Meredith’s companion was only five human years old, took nothing away from her abilities. Her species only lived until the age of fifteen, so she was considered, although not yet quite at breeding age, old enough to function independently. Meredith had made sure the governing body on Merran knew why she wanted the child and, having gained the child’s permission as well as her governments’, Meredith knew she now had a very potent weapon, one which she knew Nrug would find irresistible. She smiled coldly,   
“That little Ferengi fucker has no idea what’s in store for him. Hmm, nothing like the feeling of impending doom for someone! That fucking little Ferengi is going to end up destitute and in Rog prison. And, if I really feel in a playful mood, he’ll be without his precious cock.” She giggled, her insanity making the sound chilling. “And all his coveted latinum will be mine. Then...finally, finally, once I’ve set up our little nest, I’ll be ready to come and get you, Beverly, my love. And we can share all my new toys. Oh, how you’re going to love what I can do now! If you think you’ve experienced ecstasy,” She chuckled again and squeezed some fluid from her Bartholin’s glands as she began to masturbate. “You have so much to learn! You’ll never want to even look at a cock again...” She sneered angrily. “Especially that fucker Picard’s.”  
Her orgasm seemed to make her glow, her little companion grinning up at her as she experienced her own climax. Sucking idly on her fingers, Meredith went back to the cockpit.  
“Right, time to set up your downfall, Nrug. God, I do wish I could see your face in about three hours’ time.” Her laughter soon became manic.

 

“Now, as you are well aware, Doctor, this injection is only the first of many, although it will begin its work immediately. However, the process by which your body will return to a pre-menopausal state and you will begin to ovulate regularly may take some time, perhaps a few weeks.” Selar frowned, and tilted her head.  
“May I ask a personal question, Doctor Crusher?”  
Jean-Luc, standing next to Beverly, who was seated on a bio bed, bowed his head and frowned. He felt he knew what the question would be and, although Selar had chosen to ask Beverly and not him, he was still uncomfortable.  
Beverly sensed her partner’s discomfit and tried her best to stifle her smile. “Of course, Doctor.”  
“May I ask,” Said the blunt Vulcan, “Why are you pursuing this avenue? Surely it would be easier for all involved to simply harvest an ovum, mature it then fertilise it with an appropriate...donation, then gestate the resultant zygote until such time as your body is ready to accept and successfully complete the gestation?”  
Beverly bowed her head to try and hide her grin. The only outward show of his embarrassment was a slight shifting of his feet. Jean-Luc kept a stony silence. Having gathered some control, Beverly lifted her head and, although her expression was one of calm detachment, her eyes danced with humour.  
“Um...the Captain and I would rather take a more...traditional approach.”  
Selar digested that but, unheeding of her Captain’s growing discomfort, continued to question her boss. “But, Doctor, that is illogical. Not only will it take some time for you to become regularly fertile, that is where you have a dependable, regular cycle, it still leaves the conception to chance. Indeed, even the gender of any child you conceive will be completely at random. I do not understand why you do not use a more scientific method. Neither you or the Captain are getting any younger and there is no telling when you may achieve success.”   
At that, Jean-Luc looked up and glowered, but it was lost on the emotionless Vulcan. Beverly’s soft hand on his arm forestalled any brusque words that he might have said. Instead, Beverly said calmly, “We just want to do this the way nature intended.” Then she chuckled. “With a little help, of course.”  
As she slipped off the bio bed and prepared to leave, she looked over her shoulder and said to the puzzled Selar, “And trying to get pregnant is so much fun.”  
It wasn’t until they were out in the corridor that Jean-Luc finally spoke and when he did, his irritation was clear.  
“Was it absolutely necessary for you to make that last comment?”  
Beverly grinned and, having a quick look around to see they were alone, took Jean-Luc’s hand and squeezed it.  
“No, but you have to admit it was the truth.” She then leaned closer and whispered, “Can you spare an hour?”  
Frowning, Jean-Luc pulled down the corners of his mouth and shrugged. “Ah, I suppose. Why?”  
He actually jumped when the tip of Beverly’s tongue outlined the contours of his ear, followed by a breathy, “’Cause I want to start trying.”  
He turned and she could see desire warring with his ingrained sense of duty. “Now?” He whispered incredulously, but not without a hint of interest.  
“Uh huh.”  
Confused, but not completely averse, Jean-Luc asked carefully, “But the hormones won’t work for some time, yet, will they? I mean...” He looked into Beverly’s eyes and saw her hungry look. It was enough to make up his mind as his body had already come to its decision.  
Doing a quick reconnoitre of his own, Jean-Luc’s eyes darkened and he lifted his hand to gently rub his thumb over Beverly’s lips, making them purse. In a soft, deeply sensuous voice he said, “I think we’re going to enjoy this...process.” He looked up and down the corridor again. “Does this mean we can make love any time we want, day or night, on duty or not?”  
“Yep.” Grinned Beverly, watching as Jean-Luc’s eyes travelled over her body, stopping at her protruding nipples. “And you want to know something else?”  
He nodded silently, his hooded gaze intense.   
“The hormones I’m being injecting with are going to substantially increase my libido.”  
Jean-Luc blinked and his mouth opened a little. Giving her words some thought, Jean-Luc muttered.  
“Beverly...I think I’m going to need...”  
She reached into her coat pocket and produced a hypo. Jean-Luc’s eyes shifted to it, one eyebrow arched.  
“Is that what I think it is?” He asked incredulously.  
“Uh huh.” Said a very aroused Beverly. “I know your libido has always been perfectly adequate to match mine, but, you’re right, you might need a little help, at least in the coming weeks. This...” She rolled the hypo in her long fingers, “Is a sexual stimulant.”  
His smile was slow in emerging but it was definitely lascivious. “You, Beverly, are fucking unbelievable. You tell Selar we want to do things as naturally as possible, yet you were already in possession of a sex stimulant! My God, you were miles ahead of everyone.” His smile became a grin. “And I suppose that...” He pointed at the hypo, “Will not only afford me endless erections but greatly increase my sperm production.”  
Beverly’s grin was wolfish. “Ha! Not only that, lover, but it will hasten the maturation of your sperm. You must know that only mature sperm are released for ejaculation. Without some...help, even though you might ejaculate until you run dry, only the first one or two ejaculations would be really fertile. The rest would be mainly just seminal fluid. With this...” She held up the hypo, her eyes smoky. “You’ll be as fertile as a vole. As long as you can produce seminal fluid, which, I might add, will be greatly increased, it’ll contain lots of healthy little swimmers.”  
The man’s eyes glittered as he sighed.  
“I would rather not be compared with a particularly hideous Cardassian rodent, if you don’t mind.”  
Giving a one-shouldered shrug, Beverly raised her eyebrows and pulled down the corners of her mouth.  
“Well, they fuck continuously and produce prodigious numbers of young. I thought the analogy was apt.”  
Without a word, Jean-Luc turned and began to walk towards the nearest turbolift, Beverly hurrying to keep up. Having given the order for the lift to proceed to deck nine, nothing was said until they exited and were walking alone together towards Jean-Luc’s quarters. Just as they approached the doors, Jean-Luc said quietly,  
“I take it you have a tissue regenerator?”  
Grinning, Beverly reached into her other pocket and produced the device.  
“Ta da!” She grinned impishly.  
As they entered, Jean-Luc tapped his comm. badge.  
“Picard to Riker.”  
“Riker here, Captain.”  
With his eyes riveted on Beverly as she disrobed as she sashayed to the bedroom, Jean-Luc had to concentrate on keeping his growing arousal from showing in his voice.  
“I’ll be in my quarters until further notice, Number One. Although I would prefer not to be disturbed, if I am needed don’t hesitate to call.” He didn’t give his exec time to reply. “Picard out.”  
Moving quickly across the room to the open bedroom door, Jean-Luc was treated to the sight of Beverly lying naked on his bed, one hand dallying in her sex, the other holding up the hypo. He was getting hard as he quickly undressed, but when her intimate scent reached him, his erection hurried to full stiffness.  
Beverly’s estimation of an hour was manifestly inadequate. In fact, neither Jean-Luc nor Beverly returned to duty for the rest of the day. And the tissue regenerator was often used and much appreciated.

 

Having finally run out of both energy and semen, Nrug sat, longing in his chair while one of his wives knelt between his legs, gently licked his still erect penis clean. The female who scurried in, bowing low really annoyed him as it roused him from his sated stupor.  
“Husband! The FBC! They’re calling you!”  
Flapping a lazy hand, Nrug sneered and shifted his hips, giving the female more access to his penis.  
“That will be my cousin, Blin. Tell him unless it’s about my increasing profits, I’m busy.” He covered one nostril with his fingers and blew hard, the resulting snot hitting the back of the female licking him. He was repeating the action with the other nostril when his messenger bowed low and said softly, but with great fear and trepidation, “It is not Blin, husband.”  
That made Nrug focus his attention. “What? Blin is the Grand Negus’s under secretary. I pay him to keep me informed and to keep other greedy bureaucrats off my fucking back! He should have prevented anyone else contacting me.”  
Not knowing what else to do, the unfortunate female prostrated herself on the floor and began to weep.  
“I don’t know what to say to you, husband! It is the FBC, you know you have to answer their call immediately.”  
Swearing with gusto, Nrug shoved the female from between his legs and stood, pushing his rigid penis into his pants, then cursing loudly when he had trouble fastening the flap.  
“The fucking Ferengi Board of Commerce is staffed by Ferenginar’s biggest and most avaricious thieves! Someone will pay dearly for disturbing me at my home when I’m relaxing!”  
As angry as he was, even someone as wealthy and powerful as Nrug couldn’t afford to ignore a call from the FBC. His office was deep inside his palatial home and he curtly waved away the females who tried to follow him, grovelling and plucking at his coattails.  
“Go away! This is males’ business, you know that!” He growled; irritation and unease making him even more abrupt and unpredictable. As he got to the door of his office, he turned and snarled, “I’ll be wanting some company when I’m finished here!” Just in case his wives misunderstood, he grinned cruelly and elaborated, “Very young company!”  
Then, in typical Ferengi fashion, he looked all around, cupped his hand over the entry code pad and entered his secret sequence of numbers and symbols. The door sighed open, but that only gave him entry into the outer chamber. Walking awkwardly with his erection straining the material of his garishly coloured pants, he got to the next door, and placed his palm on a gel pad while leaning forward so that a retinal scanner could read his right eye.  
The inner office was decorated much as the rest of the house. Vividly mixed coloured fabrics lined the re-enforced walls and ceiling and the floor was criss-crossed with minute microfilaments embedded in the blastcrete. And everywhere there were listening devices, recording devices and surveillance equipment. No one could breach his security. Or so he thought. His desk was highly ornate, inlaid with a swirling pattern when viewed obliquely, depicted a remarkably good image of Nrug having sex with a very young female Ferengi. That the inlay material was solid latinum made Nrug grin with pride, that he should be so rich that he could afford such luxuries.  
The monitor on the desk was glowing bright red, the automatic standby mode. As soon as he sat in his high-backed chair, the movement activated the screen.  
Nrug almost gasped as he saw who was looking at him, remembering just in time to show appropriate deference.  
“Grand Negus!” He hoped his smile looked genuine. His hands came up to his chin, clasping as he bobbed his head. “What an honour!”  
Since Krax had inherited the position of Grand Negus from his father, Zek, Nrug had enjoyed a very cosy arrangement with the FBC having paid for his eldest son, Mran to be married to the Negus’s youngest daughter. Of course that meant Krax and Nrug were related by their children’s marriage, but on Ferenginar, such ties are trivial. What mattered most of all was the acquisition of property and wealth. In Nrug’s eldest son marrying the Negus’s daughter, he had established a foothold through his superior wealth, in the most powerful entity on the planet. So, his obsequiousness, although ingrained, was in part for show. Still, such a call was both unusual and damned annoying.  
“Yes, it is.” By Krax’s cold and distant manner, Nrug immediately thought his son had done something stupid, something that would probably be expensive to fix, but nothing really troubling. Nrug had three sons; each was now earning healthy profits on their own, paying their father their expected weekly dues as they should. Nrug had absolutely no doubt he could buy his family out of anything. It never crossed his mind that the call, coming from the Grand Negus himself, might be the harbinger of financial ruin.  
“The Ferengi Commerce Authority and the Ferengi Futures Exchange have just given me some very interesting news, Nrug.”  
Nrug’s erection suddenly subsided. Immediately suspicious, Nrug, keeping up appearances, grinned, saying, “Ah yes, my worthless sister’s son and my younger brother both work within the Tower of Commerce.”  
“Yes, they do.” Still cold and emotionless. Nrug couldn’t understand why the Negus was acting as he was. They had enjoyed years of very lucrative business dealings. In fact it had been Nrug’s superior business acumen that had afforded them both such immense profits. And Nrug, being the wealthier of the two by far, should be now be seeing more respect from his old partner.  
“However, they don’t work there any more. Neither does your cousin, or any other member of your family, no matter now distantly related.”  
Spreading his hands under his chin as custom dictated (you never knew who might be watching), Nrug whined,  
“But my eldest son...he is married to your daughter.”  
The cold glitter in the Negus’s small eyes showed clearly on the screen.  
“Not any more. I have dissolved the marriage as being unprofitable and of course I have absorbed all your son’s assets.”  
Shock and outrage made Nrug shout.  
“That is preposterous! The male is awarded ALL assets in the dissolution of an unprofitable marriage! You cannot do that to my son! Or to me! I underwrote that marriage!”  
The Negus smiled coldly and Nrug growled low in his throat.  
“Are you questioning my authority, Nrug?”  
If he could grind his snaggle teeth together he would have. Somehow he summoned a smile. “Of course not, Negus, you must forgive me.” He tilted his bulbous head and adopted a conspiratorial air. “Tell me, what did he do, and how much will it cost me to put things right? I’m sure we can come to a mutually agreeable arrangement.”  
Krax made a show of inspecting his purple nails before sighing and shaking his head. “I’m afraid you can’t buy your son out of trouble this time, Nrug.”  
The little alien seethed, wondering just what it was his worthless son had done that was so bad he had to forego the time honoured custom of bargaining.  
“Very well, Negus. Name your price.”  
All Krax did was shake his head, the predatory smile never leaving his face.  
“You don’t understand, Nrug.” His condescending tone made Nrug boil with suppressed anger.  
“You can’t buy your son out of trouble because you lack sufficient funds.”  
Those particular words-‘You lack sufficient funds’ were probably the most insulting thing one Ferengi could say to another. Especially one as wealthy as Nrug. It was true he had a very substantial amount of latinum in his strong room, but his business dealings were spread across the quadrant. He not only had interests, if not outright ownership of so many enterprises and shady deals even he sometimes lost track. All he knew was that the profits generated by his holdings not only kept him in an enviable lifestyle, but was such he had never had to touch even so much as one single bar of actual latinum. Even his little ‘toys’ were put down as entertainment, therefore deductable as tax. Besides, when he’d tired of them, he always sold then for a good price, especially as they had been...trained...in the erotic arts, those that survived, that was. Such was his influence he didn’t even have to pay much for his relative’s positions in the commerce system of his government. For fuck’s sake, they were grateful! So he just blinked and managed to squeak,  
“What?”  
Sitting back in his hugely padded and ornate chair, Krax shrugged.  
“It’s true, I’m afraid, Nrug. All your holdings, shares, titles, enterprises and schemes have been absorbed.”  
Another deeply insulting word.  
“What do you mean absorbed? By whom? Who would dare to steal from me?!”  
Krax snorted softly, idly surprised when some snot shot out of his left nostril. He stared at it on his desk before bringing his focus back to the incensed Nrug.  
“It wasn’t theft, Nrug It was all quite legal, I assure you.” He sighed, seeming bored. “Do you remember the Great Monetary Collapse?”  
Nrug merely nodded, too incandescent with rage to speak.  
“Then you must remember the amendments to the Rules of Acquisition.”  
“Of course I do! Every Ferengi knows them!” Nrug hissed.  
“Good. Then I only have to remind you of three. The ninth Rule: Opportunity plus instinct equals profit, The seventh Rule: Keep your ears open, and finally the twenty-first Rule: Never put friendship above profit.” Leaning forward, Krax clasped his small orange hands on his desktop.  
“It would seem you have made some very powerful enemies, Nrug, so powerful no one is going to lift a finger to kelp you. In fact, to even be near you is now very dangerous. The FBC has frozen every remaining, albeit small, assets you have left. My suggestion is you leave Ferenginar immediately as the repossessors will arrive soon. You, Nrug are in a lot of debt and I can’t see how you can avoid Rog prison. You didn’t keep your ears open, Nrug, you were too busy fucking children.” The Negus shrugged. “Not that I blame you, of course, the young do have their charms. But...obviously someone has taken the Ninth Rule to heart and used it to destroy you and...old friend, I have broken the twenty-first Rule by warning you.” He grinned and shrugged. “Call me sentimental.” He reached forward to terminate the call, when he paused. “Oh, one more thing, Nrug. Rog prison? You and your sons will be in the debtors section.”  
The screen went blank and Nrug felt urine trickling down his leg. Moving slowly at first, he gathered speed as he rushed out of his office, through the anteroom and into his home, screeching, “Get me Qwet!”  
His order was greeted by an eerie silence. “Wives! Get in here immediately!”  
He’d never heard his voice echo in his home before. Whirling around, he began to run from room to room only to be confronted by empty closets and hastily vacated rooms. Back in his favourite room, he gripped the back of his chair, staring at his bright blue boots. The quiet, deep voice behind him made him spin around so fast he lost his balance and staggered sideways.  
Meredith, holding the little female’s hand, her other hand holding a small bag, let her inhuman eyes wander over Nrug’s form. She smiled, but there was no warmth, just a predator’s chilling appraisal of her intended prey.  
“I believe you’ve been waiting for me?”  
More urine puddled at Nrug’s booted feet.  
His small sunken eyes took in Meredith’s statuesque, naked and hairless body and he stammered,  
“What are you?”  
Meredith’s smile widened.

“I am your worst nightmare, Nrug.”  
In a burst of sudden panic, Nrug lunged at the chair arm, savagely and frantically pressing a hidden button again and again. Still standing and watching with her smile now an amused one, Meredith said happily,  
“Qwet won’t come, Nrug, no one will. Even the repossessors know to stay away...for now. While we have our...fun.”  
The Ferengi all but screamed,  
“Where is Qwet?! I employ him to look after me! Him, I pay well!” Nrug screeched.  
Taking two long steps brought Meredith and the little female too close for Nrug’s comfort. He rushed around the chair, putting it between them. Meredith’s unsettling eyes glittered.  
“Let’s just say that Qwet is...entertaining some flies.” She said softly.  
Nrug scowled. “Flies?” He said querulously, not understanding the word.  
“Oh, you don’t have flies on Ferenginar?” Meredith adopted a surprised look, then one of contrition. “Oh, I do apologise! I’ll explain. Flies are insects that feed on blood and dead things...and shit like you.”  
Showing courage that was definitely not in a Ferengi’s normal character, Nrug pulled himself up to his full height and snarled,  
“You are a female! You will show me proper respect!”  
With a soft snort, Meredith lowered her head and shook it, making the little female chuckle.  
“You want respect, you little child fucker? All right, I offer you my little friend here as a gift...a show of good faith.”  
With a small gesture, Meredith encouraged the child to move towards the Ferengi. Obviously suspicious, he snarled,  
“Stay away from me! I want nothing from you, female, not your gift, or you! Now get out!”  
Tapping her fingers against her chiselled chin, Meredith tilted her head and sighed.  
“No, I don’t think so. Not until we get what we came for.”  
“And what is that?”  
Meredith’s grin was so chilling, Nrug defecated. Meredith snapped her fingers and pointed at him.  
“You know, I think he’s beginning to get the idea!”  
From the pouch on the little alien’s chest she withdrew a small, but deadly-sharp knife and a thin, flexible circular band that she stretched between her fingers. Mesmerised and unable to move, Nrug watched in sick fascination as she slowly approached. He heard Meredith, but he never took his gaze from the child’s eyes.  
“Merrans are known for the way they can hold their prey with intense eye contact.” She snickered. “Of course it doesn’t work on me.” She added, seeming to think it important he knew.  
She stepped closer so she could see what was going to happen.  
“When your little gift does what she came to do, I want you to think of all the little children you violated, you fucker!”  
The little alien paused and turned; a frown on her face, making Meredith grin ruefully.  
“Oh, all right, that was a bit over the top, wasn’t it. Okay, I admit I couldn’t care less, but I know you do...so enjoy.”  
Within the matter of a few minutes, Nrug’s screams of agony echoed around his empty mansion. It made Meredith so aroused she masturbated three times before the little alien turned, holding up her prize with a satisfied grin. Nrug would never violate another child. He’d been completely emasculated.  
Writhing on the floor, Nrug’s hands clutched at the raw wound where his genitals had once hung from his body. To Meredith’s disappointment, there was little blood, and on closer inspection she saw why. The thin, flexible ring the little Merran had in her hand was now tightly gripping the short stump where the cut had been made.   
Meredith looked down at her companion and ruffled her hair in admiration and, surprisingly, some affection.  
“Well done, my small friend. But it would’ve been more entertaining had it been a bit messier. Pain is one thing, but when they see their own blood it really adds some flavour to the moment. You might want to work on that.”  
In response, the Merran held up the gruesome prize, her gaze a steady one. Meredith chuckled and bowed her head.  
“Oh, all right, you’ve made your point.” Toeing Nrug onto his back, Meredith bent and gripped his chin hard enough to get his attention. “I know all about your security measures, Nrug and I know the gel pad and the retinal scan won’t work unless they detect not only your specific readings, but your pulse and galvanic skin responses. So, I guess you’d be thinking I have to keep you alive, at least until I get into your strong room.” Her grin was so utterly evil and devoid of sanity, Nrug urinated in terror through the severed stump of his penis, the urine squirting between his fingers and mixing with the sluggish dribble of blood.  
“However, I think I should let you know that that’s not actually true. I can use your body parts even after death and still gain access, but what would really amuse me is to use them in a very entertaining way while you’re still alive.” She stood up and straddled his body, stretching with lithe grace. “Take the retinal scanner for example. That knife my little friend has? She is very adept at using it...”Meredith grinned. “But of course you all ready know that, anyway, she can pluck your right eye out, just like that!” She snapped her fingers and bent down again, her face filled with eager wonderment. “Are you aware just how far one can pull an eye out of its socket while still attached to the optic nerve? Ha!” She reached down and pushed hard at the flesh under Nrug’s right eye, making it bulge. “Of course we probably wouldn’t have time to put it back; in fact I don’t see why we’d leave the other one in your head. I mean it’s got to be one thing or the other, doesn’t it? Both in or both out. It’s all about symmetry, Nrug, symmetry.”  
She smiled and Nrug had never seen anything so utterly alien. In the back of his mind he’d finally registered she may once have been human, but he’d never known of a human like her. That information, however, didn’t help with his present situation. He could only try to cope with his agony while she kept chatting as if nothing unusual was going on.  
“Then there’s your hand.” She remarked, her eerie eyes watching her own arm as she flexed her muscles. “Same deal, really. Separate the skin, bones, muscles and larger tendons, and the whole thing comes away from the body, still attached to the sinews and blood supply.” She grinned and tilted her head back to sigh. “And of course, both hands would have to get the same treatment. Symmetry, remember.”  
She held out both arms and watched, seemingly fascinated by the play of muscles under her golden hairless skin. “Aren’t I beautiful? I am perfection, Nrug. I am the embodiment of symmetry. I can only offer you the same. Think of it as my gift to you.”  
With no effort at all, Meredith used her foot to roll Nrug over onto his stomach. Then bending, she grabbed the collar of his jacket and shirt and walked across the room, dragging the squealing Ferengi with her, the streaks of his blood leaving a grisly trail on the highly polished, tiled floor. She went confidently through the house to the strong room.  
Going unerringly to the outer door, Meredith dropped the being and shoved him with her foot. She had to raise her voice to be heard over his screaming.  
“Nrug! Shut up; or I will really give you something to yell about!”   
The mogul abruptly stopped and, at Meredith’s curt gestures, somehow managed to sit upright. She grinned down at him, then winked at her little accomplice.  
“I bet when you thought up the code to this...” She tapped the pad with her knuckle. “That no one could ever crack it, that it would be an impossibility.” She sighed with happiness and slowly opened the small bag she’d been carrying. “Watch Nrug and I will show you something quite remarkable, something I doubt you’ve ever seen before.”  
Her long fingers reaching into the bag, Meredith lifted out a thin metal coiled cable, its shiny pointed end making Nrug swallow convulsively. Never taking her eyes off the Ferengi, Meredith calmly pushed the solid end into the tiny portal at the base of her left ear, then gently pressed the small, circular disc at the other end to the pad. She then closed her eyes and smiled, saying softly, “Watch, Nrug, watch my magnificence.”  
His mouth agape, saliva dribbling down his chin, Nrug watched in sick disbelief as, one-by-one the green lights of acceptance lit up on the pad. Dumbfounded, Nrug whispered, “I spent hundreds of bars on the entire security system! How did you...?”  
Meredith’s smile was serene, as if what she was doing was giving her intense pleasure. Without opening her eyes, she said softly, “I’ve been to see the Fen.”  
Nrug couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. In fact when he began to weep, he wasn’t sure exactly what was happening to him. He had only heard of the Fen and even then only vague unsubstantiated rumours, but that had been enough for him to know he was doomed. No Ferengi would balk at begging if he thought it would get him what he wanted, and, as it was his very life at stake, Nrug knew that beg was all he could do. But even before he began, he knew it was pointless, he even knew his tormentor would gain immeasurable pleasure from it. Nevertheless, it was instinctive.  
“Please!” He sobbed. “I will give you anything! I will give you everything I own. My wealth, my home, my sons, everything! Just don’t kill me...please, I beg you!”  
Hunkering down beside the grovelling little alien, Meredith gripped his chin and raised his head. Her smile was icy.  
“I already have all those things, Nrug. You are destitute. There is nothing you can offer me, because you have nothing!” She squeezed hard enough to grin when the bone of his jaw broke with a sharp crack. Nrug screamed and Meredith said loudly, “Did all those little girls and boys you violated beg, Nrug? Did they cry and weep, begging you to stop? Did they call for their parents? Their Gods?”  
The Merran gently placed her hand on Meredith’s arm and the tall woman looked at her and sighed. “Sorry, not my place. I do get carried away, don’t I?” Smiling, Meredith winked. “I’d make a wonderful actor!” She stood and waved her hand. “Please, by all means, be my guest.”  
While Meredith disconnected the cable and coiled it up, she watched dispassionately as the little girl expertly eased the blade of her knife under Nrug’s right eye and flipped it out of its socket. Screaming so loudly that Meredith kicked him violently in the groin to silence him; she once again grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the now open outer room. Continuing to hold him up, the Merran took only a few minutes to separate Nrug’s right hand.  
With little effort, Meredith hoisted the now semi-conscious Ferengi upright and, with the Merran’s help, aligned his grotesquely hanging eye and hand to their respective readers. The inner door hissed open and Meredith sighed, closed her eyes, lifted her head and flared her nostrils.  
“I can smell it, my little friend. Can’t you? All that lovely latinum!”  
Feeling the gentle caress on her thigh, Meredith opened her eyes and looked down at the intense eyes of her companion. Smiling with some tenderness, Meredith said softly, “Of course. You know where they are?”  
Nodding, the Merran turned, but as she left the room, Meredith said coldly, “If you find any of them dead, come back. I’m sure we can encourage this bag of shit to scream some more.”  
Leaving Nrug just inside the strong room, Meredith lifted her hand and spoke to her wrist. “Computer, send down prearranged equipment to my location.”  
Tilting her head, Meredith could see, even through his unspeakable agony, Nrug was still shocked. Squatting, the woman idly flipped his dangling eye back and forth with her forefinger.  
“Yes, Nrug, I can beam anything I want...in...and out. Once one has been to the Fen, nothing is impossible.”  
There was a gentle whine and several hundred unidentifiable small objects appeared. Walking around the huge stacks of latinum bars, Meredith placed the objects at strategic places. In all, it took her almost forty minutes until she was finished. Smiling wolfishly down at the hapless Ferengi she said succinctly, making sure he could hear her clearly,  
“Computer, activate transport protocols and initiate prearranged security. Energise.”  
There was no vocal reply, but as Nrug’s one functioning eye watched, his fortune disappeared. That was devastating, but nothing compared to him seeing Meredith slowly approaching, her right hand taking a wicked looking knife out of her bag.  
“Now then, my little Ferengi fucker, let me introduce you to a very dear friend of mine.” She held up her knife. “I believe we have some symmetry to achieve.”  
In the time it took for Meredith to pop out Nrug’s remaining eye and partially sever and yank out his other hand, the Merran returned. Meredith stood, staring at her bloodied hands with distaste. One look at her companion made her chuckle, an expression of disbelief on her face.  
“Oh, this is too much! Don’t tell me you found some of them dead?”  
The Merran nodded solemnly.  
Shaking her head in utter incomprehensibility, Meredith asked incredulously,  
“Okay, in total, how many did he have captive?”  
Making a sign with her hands, Meredith glared down at the whimpering, sobbing Ferengi.   
“And how many of them are dead?”  
Again, the Merran made a gesture. Barely controlling herself, Meredith bent down and grabbed the ghastly wound in Nrug’s groin and squeezed. “You little shit bag! You had twelve children captive and three of them are dead! For that alone you should die a very slow and hideously painful death, but we intend something far more...fitting. You will die, but not quite yet and not by our hands. You have a very valuable lesson to learn first.”  
Standing, Meredith looked at the Merran and smiled. “He’s all yours. Just remember he must be alive when you’ve finished and able to recover enough to be thrown into the debtor’s section of Rog prison. I’ve made arrangements that neither he, nor any member of his family will ever be released and of course without any funds, this pus packet won’t be able to pay to have his body reconstructed. And...” She grinned coldly. “I’ve engaged some Ferengi inmates, males with particular tastes and large cocks, to pay our little friend here regular visits.”  
Again the Merran stared up at Meredith and the tall woman smiled affectionately. “Don’t worry, with no money, no assets, no family and completely disabled, he will die...eventually...in Rog prison, probably either of a slow acting sexually transmitted disease, or certainly with a cock up his bleeding arse. And I’ve made sure every time he’s raped, he is to be reminded of all the kids he fucked.” She winked. “Are we good? Is that payment enough for your invaluable assistance?”  
The Merran nodded solemnly and slowly turned to stare at the terrified Ferengi, her mouth beginning to water. Smiling for the first time and showing her sharp teeth which she was about to put to good use, Meredith crossed her arms and watched. Yes, it was always good when someone paid and she was pleasantly surprised to learn that watching a master at work was almost as good as doing it herself. Almost. Despite the gore on her hands, Meredith enhanced the experience by masturbating. Why not make the most of a very entertaining situation?

 

Predictably, Jean-Luc and Beverly made love next morning, but Jean-Luc resisted Beverly’s suggestion they use the stimulant again. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, making Beverly realise he had something on his mind. They were lying together, sated and relaxed, the bedding still tangled around their legs. Rising up on one elbow, Beverly placed her hand flat on his chest, looked down at her lover and said softly,  
“What is it, Jean-Luc?”  
He sighed again and gave Beverly a look of one seeking forgiveness. “Beverly, my love, yesterday, last night and this morning were wonderful, but...”  
When he said no more, Beverly simply waited. With their new-found honesty and connection she knew he would tell her what was in his heart and she wasn’t worried.  
“I can’t continue to neglect my duty just to indulge in...”  
Playfully, Beverly tickled his ribs. “Baby making?” She giggled her question.  
He snorted and gripped her hands, saying with mild indignity, “Stop that!” Then he smiled and moved to nuzzle her neck. She mewed but knew he was only trying to ease any hurt feelings, not initiate arousal. Muttering into her neck he said,  
“I can’t do it, Beverly. As wonderful as it is...and as much as I want to, I can’t. When I’m rostered for duty, I have to comply. I simply cannot afford the luxury of this...exquisite indulgence. I have to set the example, be the leader I’m supposed to be. If word got out that I flouted my own rules...”  
To make him feel better, Beverly giggled and tickled him again. While he attempted to grab her hands again, she said through her laughter, “People wouldn’t turn up for duty; they’d stay in their quarters and fuck all day!”  
Giving up, he flopped onto his back and let out a soft chuckle. “And of course, nothing would get done!” He grinned and turned his head and very gently ran one finger down Beverly’s face. “Nothing official. But by God, there’d be a lot of happy people aboard!” They both chuckled.  
It was her turn to nuzzle him and he sighed, gathering her into his arms. “You do understand, don’t you?”  
Suddenly sitting up, Beverly gazed steadily down at her lover and nodded; her expression totally serious. “Of course I do, Jean-Luc.”  
He sat up and took her face in his hands. “I haven’t hurt your feelings?”  
She smiled tenderly. “No, not in the slightest.” They shared a soft kiss and Jean-Luc began to turn to leave the bed. Beverly’s gentle grip of his upper arm arrested his movement. Her whisper moistened his inner ear. “Just as long as you know I’ll be waiting once your shift is over. Then, Jean-Luc, your duty will be to serve me.”  
He closed his eyes and swallowed, his erection slowly growing. He stood, turned and watched as Beverly’s eyes travelled over him, settling on his hardening penis. She licked her lips, making him roll his eyes. “That, Beverly, was deliberately provocative. Now I have to spend the entire day with that particular thought running through my head. Thank you very much.”  
Grinning impishly, Beverly winked and, with premeditated sensuousness, licked her lips again and pinched her nipple. Jean-Luc shook his head in exasperation and stalked to the bathroom, muttering loudly,  
“You are unbelievable!”  
Beverly grinned and flopped back onto the bed, saying just loud enough for him to hear, “And you, my love, are putty in my hands!”  
When he came out of the bathroom sometime later, showered and shaved, Beverly went to him and kissed him, gently pulling back his foreskin and caressing the head of his still erect penis. He sighed and shook his head. “Are you deliberately trying to make my day hard?”  
She smiled enigmatically and said as she left to go to the bathroom, “Not your day, Jean-Luc, just your cock.”  
He got into his uniform and swore softly as he had trouble stuffing his stiff penis into his trousers. Doing up the fly caused discomfort and when he looked down at himself, the large bulge was obvious. Beverly appeared at his side and made matters worse by running a fingernail over him. Swearing darkly, he left the room and went to the replicator to order breakfast as Beverly dressed.  
They sat at either end of the dining room table, Jean-Luc studiously ignoring the sultry looks Beverly kept sending him. Eventually he put his coffee cup down and sighed with his head bowed.  
“All right, I give up. What is it you want?”  
Beverly made a show of raising her eyebrows in mock surprise and feigned innocence, her hand spread on her breasts. “Want? Who, me?”  
Scrunching up one side of his mouth, Jean-Luc gave her a frankly disbelieving look. Beverly waited a few moments then laughed lazily.  
“Oh, nothing, Jean-Luc, I was just teasing.”  
He sighed and shook his head. “Well it worked, but I still have a hard on and I still have to get through the day.”  
Rising from her seat, Beverly went and hitched her backside on the table edge beside Jean-Luc. Bending, she kissed his bald pate. “Sorry, but if it’s any consolation, I’m horny too and I will be all day.”  
He closed his eyes and sighed. “Oh, that’s just great. That helps a lot, thanks again.”  
He stood and Beverly couldn’t help but grin at seeing the tantalising bulge in his trousers, straining the material. Pulling her mouth to one side, she scratched her ear. “Well, all I can say is...hold that thought.” She kissed his cheek and breezed out of their quarters. Jean-Luc looked down at himself and swore in nine different languages. None helped. He had only one option and that was to wait until he subsided. Masturbation was out of the question as both he and Beverly wanted his semen to be as fertile as possible. So he was late for the morning briefing, earning a sinful look of amusement from his lover, seated oh-so innocently at her place, patiently waiting with the rest of the senior staff for their uncharacteristically tardy captain. Thankfully no one had the temerity to ask why he was late, and he offered nothing by way of explanation. Sometimes it was good to be the king. Frustrating, yes, but it had its advantages.

 

Having dropped the little Merran back on her planet, a naked Meredith laid in a new course and heading, set the speed and engaged the auto pilot. She then left the cockpit of her vessel and made her way to the bedroom. Long before she’d ever reached Ferenginar, Meredith had already begun the process by which she could establish herself within her chosen planet’s society, although she had absolutely no intention of mixing with the locals. The very thought made her skin crawl.  
She was now exceptionally wealthy. Not only did she possess enormous demonstrative wealth in the latinum now safely on its way via a secure drone craft to a predestined destination, but now that she was the owner of all Nrug’s holdings and assets, the director of every one of his former schemes and deals, she knew she would have a constant, regular and very lucrative stream of income and, for what she had in mind, that was vital.  
Of course her wealth was meaningless within the Federation and that was fine by her as she had no intention of settling anywhere near their borders. Indeed the planet she’d chosen was quite some distance away, but...and she really had to smile at this...her new craft possessed technology the Federation was only just beginning to investigate. A distance that might take a starship months to travel, Meredith could so in days. So, after making a suitable effort to study the options, Meredith chose a small, very prosperous planet well out of the way where wealth such as hers was important and those with great wealth were treated with the deference she thought she not only deserved, but was her right.  
However, the government of this planet were very selective about just who was permitted to become a citizen, to a point, and Meredith was annoyed to find out just what that point was. She was mildly surprised to find immense wealth alone wasn’t enough, (although it certainly helped). One had to be found...acceptable, although one was never asked just how one came to be so very wealthy. She, to her great irritation had to submit a profile, a resume if you will, outlining her species, gender, origins, past associations (including any criminal convictions), intentions in wanting to stay, if gaining citizenship and last and most importantly, the total of her wealth, expressed not only in mere amounts of latinum, but by her entrepreneurial skills in running and maintaining a profitable and stable source of income. At first, Meredith had balked at composing this profile as she knew it would necessitate some very skilful and imaginative bending of the facts and completely obliterating others, but once she’d been to the Fen she knew the profile was meaningless, as all it garnered was the attention of the treasury of the planet to extract the initial ‘encouragement’ payment, meant (so it was stressed) to begin the process of investigation. However, Meredith knew the real reason for the profile and the ‘payment’ was to simply separate the wheat from the chaff. If she could afford the initial payment, then eyes could be ‘diverted’ when checking the veracity of her profile.  
So, not long after leaving the Fen her profile had been sent. That she had never even considered she’d fail in her business with Nrug didn’t even enter her head. She knew she’d be successful.  
With her vessel on its way, she sprawled on her oversized bed, its pure white linen contrasting nicely with her smooth, golden skin as she perused a large PADD. Until she read all the information on the device, she wouldn’t know exactly just how wealthy she was. Given that her profile had already been sent and the amounts stated had been a conservative estimate, Meredith was eager to know the facts. What she found pleased her immensely.  
Half an hour later, she rolled onto her back and stared lovingly up at a huge image of Beverly’s face which graced the entire ceiling of the room. “Well, my beloved Beverly, you will never go without anything. There is nothing you can think of that I can’t provide.” Meredith sighed and pursed her lips, as if in anticipation of a kiss. She knew, by the last communication, that her profile and payment had been accepted. In response, she’d sent a brief document, describing her wish to buy a large area of land, specifically by the equatorial ocean, where she would have dwelling constructed, built to her personal specifications. She also made it clear not only was she happy to pay the rest of the citizenship admission payments, but that she would, in gratitude of course, pay above the usual newcomer tax rate. In return, she stipulated that once the building had been completed and she was in residence, she was to be left strictly alone. All communications with the appropriate government departments and the infrastructure of the population would be done remotely. No one was to see her, visit her or call her. As added incentive, just to demonstrate how eager she was to join the citizenry, Meredith sent the chief minister of the treasury a very healthy sum, meant of course to assist her and her family in such mundane but noisome things like the education of the offspring and the odd encouragement payments the minister needed to outlay to keep the government running smoothly.  
Meredith sighed and stretched one long arm to open the drawer beside her bed. Extracting a very large dildo, she squeezed out some lubricant from her glands, made sure the device was well coated and, with her eyes glued to Beverly’s image, slowly inserted inside her.  
At first she was content to just leave the oversize toy in her remarkable vagina; content to tease out her new bigger clit from where it was hidden inside her body, enjoying the sensations of tantalising her hyper sensitive clit as well as being filled so deliciously. As her clit erected, Meredith said softly,  
“I have spoken with my doctors, dear Beverly and I have made a tentative booking for your surgeries. We’ll have such a lovely time, going through all the information. I can’t wait to watch your face as you see what’s available! SFM have nothing like it, nor would you find this level of expertise anywhere in the Federation. Oh...” As much as she wanted to keep her eyes open all the time, her gaze fixed on Beverly’s image, the sensations were so intense she just had to close them occasionally. “Oh...Beverly, Beverly, my beloved Beverly.” She opened her eyes again and they seemed to glow and glitter. “There’s so much I want to show you! Do to you! Share with you!” Arching up, her unnaturally long spine bending alarmingly, Meredith reached down with her free hand and activated the dildo while she continued to tease her huge clit. A similar size to an average human male’s erect penis, she was able to actually stroke it. “Once you see me, Beverly, witness my perfection, I know you’ll want to be the same. Together we shall discover heights of passion and ecstasy no being has ever before reached.”   
With her heels digging into the mattress, Meredith’s body flexed and from her wide-open mouth came a protracted, but softly articulated sound of release. Such was her augmentation, the orgasm went on for nearly five minutes, indeed, it was a conscious decision of Meredith herself that ended it. She had been experimenting, seeing just how long she could stay in a state of orgasm and she knew she had much to learn yet. It did occur to her that she might not have any limits and the thought intrigued and delighted her, especially when she imagined what it would be like to spend several hours with her Beverly, locked together and floating in an endless sea of emotional and physical euphoria. An eternity of orgasm.  
Slowly relaxing, she switched off the dildo, but left inside her, enjoying how she could move it with her immensely strong internal muscles and idly but very gently, kept stroking her clit. She wasn’t trying to achieve another orgasm, she merely liked the sensations, she felt, when in the aftermath of an orgasm, with her adoring gaze fixed on Beverly’s image, she did some of her most creative thinking. Her mind wandered, going over the logistics of helping Beverly choose her enhancements, getting her to the medical facility and back, making the very discreet payments (untraceable, of course) and settling down to a life of extraordinarily satisfying sex and intellectual stimulation. Of course that meant Beverly would have to visit the Fen, but the alternative was impossible, in fact she wouldn’t even contemplate it. Meredith could now only exist with her equal, someone like her. Everyone else was so...inferior. No, Beverly would have to visit the Fen; there was no way around it. It never crossed Meredith’s mind that Beverly may not want any of these things, that she may want to stay just the way she was. By now so far removed from sanity and reality, Meredith was incapable of thinking of anything but herself. She had become the living, breathing example of the perfect egoistic hedonist. In all history, even in legend, nothing like Meredith had ever lived and Beverly was the sole focus of her attention, not just her perception of self, but her reason for being. So of course, Beverly had to be raised, brought up to Meredith’s impossible heights. Only then could the beautiful red haired doctor take her place at Meredith’s side.  
The image of Beverly had been broken down into various parts, greatly magnified images of her lips, eyes, cheeks and other facial features were scattered around the ship. Letting her eyes wander from Beverly’s complete face, Meredith’s gaze settled on an enlarged image of her lower lip. She grinned then and had a very amusing thought. “I know, my sweet Beverly. What we need is a trophy! A memento! And I know exactly what it should be! Oh dear God, you’ll love it!” She giggled manically and crowed before saying breathlessly, “Picard’s cock and useless balls, mounted on the bones of his pelvis!”  
She was so pleased with this new idea she increased her stroking and reactivated the dildo. When she came she stayed in orgasm for seven minutes, screaming Beverly’s name over and over.  
Much later a calmer Meredith studied the plans for her new dwelling. She had already received the estimate of time it would take to build it and in the interim; Meredith would reside in the penthouse of the most exclusive hotel on the planet, in total seclusion, of course.  
Next she accessed the Enterprise’s anticipated schedule. As long as nothing unforseen took place, she should be able to make her move within a month, perhaps a month and a half. She knew where the ship would be around that time and she already had her strategy in place. Childs’s play. Especially since she was dealing with nothing but children, by comparison to her, of course.

Burning The Edges Pt. 2

Just over three weeks had passed and the couple in the bed were panting heavily, their bodies covered with sweat. They had just made love for the third time in the space of an hour and a half and both participants were showing signs of wear. Jean-Luc had stuck to his guns and refrained from going anywhere near Beverly while either of them was on duty, but off duty was another thing entirely.  
Sometimes they made simple, uncomplicated love, enjoying the true intimacy and emotional connection, but mostly they used the stimulant and although they did their best to prolong the act by indulging in protracted foreplay, it was only postponing the inevitable and they ended up fucking hard and fast. Both of them were looking forward to the time when it was no longer necessary to use the stimulant.  
Jean-Luc rolled off Beverly, wincing as he did. Flat on his back he closed his eyes and frowned, not opening them when he felt Beverly leave the bed, then quickly return. He knew exactly what she was going to do and, as she gently lifted his penis, his breath hissed through his teeth and he muttered, “Gently, Beverly, gently.”  
Having used the stimulant earlier, she knew just handling him would cause him to gain another erection, but both of them needed to utilise the regenerator. Very, very gently, Beverly eased his foreskin back and grimaced at the dark red skin of the abraded glans. “Just the head?” She asked softly.  
“Yes.” He sighed.  
He was beginning to stiffen and Beverly had to be quick. She finished just as he became fully erect. “What about the shaft?”  
Shaking his head, Jean-Luc slowly sat up, taking the device from Beverly and easing her down onto the mattress. As he gently encouraged her to spread her legs and lift her hips he said quietly, “No, the shaft is tender, but not too sore.”  
He used two fingers of his left hand to carefully spread her labia, his nostrils flaring at the combined scent of her juices and his semen, which was dribbling out, reached his nose. Just as Beverly had been, he was very gentle as he eased the flesh of her mons up to expose her clit. It was dark red and his gaze went to the opening of her vagina to see it too was inflamed and red. He said nothing as he applied the regenerator to these areas, but when Beverly sighed and asked, “What about your balls?” He offered a half shrug and a rueful smile. “Like my shaft, a little tender, but I think that’s to be expected. Things are going into overdrive down there.”  
Having restored Beverly’s tender flesh he put the device on the bedside table and stretched out alongside his lover. They looked into each other’s eyes and eventually chuckled tiredly. It was Jean-Luc’s insistent erection that made him frown and remark, “You haven’t menstruated yet.”  
“No.” Beverly sighed. “In fact, I don’t know if I’ve even ovulated yet.”  
She reached between them and gently ran her hand over his penis pulling his foreskin up and down, making sure it covered then exposed the sensitive head, making him hum with pleasure. “Oh...yes, Beverly....gently, gently...”  
“You like?” She purred.  
“Mmm, you know I do, but ease off a bit or I’ll come in your hand.”  
“Oh no, don’t you even think about it, Jean-Luc. We can’t waste a drop; I want all of it inside me.”  
He reached down and hooked one hand under her knee, drawing her leg over his hip. Nuzzling under her ear, he rumbled, “I’ve no intention of coming anywhere but deep inside you, Beverly.” His fingers made their way to Beverly’s clit, the ample lubrication making it ridiculously easy for him to stimulate it to hardness and bring her very quickly to the edge. He had been watching her intently as her eyes drifted closed, her body beginning to shudder and with exquisite timing, he slid his large penis inside her just as she came.  
When she’d calmed a little, he said huskily, “You like?” Smiling dreamily, Beverly hummed then slowly began to rotate her hips. Growling softly, Jean-Luc reciprocated by thrusting, slowly at first, but soon picking up the pace and force. It wasn’t long before they were clinging to each other, trying to get their breath back.  
Some minutes later, Jean-Luc mumbled, “Maybe you should have Selar scan you?” He smiled to reassure his lover. “I for one will be only too pleased when we can dispense with this kind of...”  
“Fucking?” Suggested an equally tired Beverly.  
“Well, yes. I mean it has its rewards obviously, but I’d rather be...motivated, not chemically compelled to have sex with you my love.”  
They separated, both wincing again. By now there was a sizable wet area on the bed and as much as he tried to disguise it, Jean-Luc found it distasteful. Beverly knew how he felt, but until the stimulant had run its course, there simply was no option but to put up with it. On her back, waiting while Jean-Luc rolled over to get the regenerator, Beverly said quietly, “I know what you mean, Jean-Luc. At the beginning, I thought this would be...you know...fun. But as much as I adore making love with you, even I have my limits.” She sighed wistfully and closed her eyes as Jean-Luc carefully lifted her hips, this time placing a pillow under her. As he went about repairing the abraded tissue she said softly,  
“Before, even if it was a quickie in the shower or over the table or...”  
Jean-Luc chuckled softly, muttering, “Up against the wall?”  
Beverly chuckled too. “Oh, now that was memorable! My God, I hadn’t done that in years.”  
“Well, you may be surprised to know that I hadn’t done it that way for a very long time either.”  
Gently placing the implement in Beverly’s hand, Jean-Luc lay beside her as she gently went about healing him.   
“Really? I’d never have guessed. You were so passionate; the whole thing was so urgent and so damned fantastic!”  
“Hmm. Want to know why?”  
Now intrigued, Beverly put the device on her side of the bed and lay beside him. “Yes.”  
“Because I had spent that entire day thinking about you and how much I wanted to make love to you. Of course that in itself was nothing new; I did that all the time, in fact, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Sometimes, not often mind, but sometimes when I was in my ready room, I would go into the bathroom and masturbate.”  
“Really?” Said a sufficiently scandalised Beverly.  
“Oh, yes and that day in particular I was very tempted. You see, my love, I’d wanted you for so long, all I had was endless mind fuck. I was so used to easing my sexual tension, well; I suppose I was my own worst enemy. If I hadn’t fantasised about you so much, I wouldn’t have had to masturbate as much as I did. Anyway, on that day we were of course by then a couple and I had finally found out what you were like to make love to and I wanted you all the more! It was one of those happy, but rare occasions when reality far exceeded fantasy! So, the tension grew all day until I was so aroused I just had to have you.”  
Smiling wistfully, Beverly began to slide her fingers up and down his shaft, taking time to caress the head and spread the precome. “And so the minute I walked in the door...”  
“I ravished you.”  
“Yeah. And oh, God...it was so fucking good!”  
He gasped softly and reached down to gently grip her wrist. “Steady, my love, I’m still a bit sore.”  
“You’re not as hard.”  
“No, I think this will be the last time for tonight.”  
“Okay, that’s fine by me.”  
Later, as Beverly was again carefully holding Jean-Luc’s flaccid penis, she squinted in the dim light and winced. “Shit.”  
He lifted his head to peer down his body, his voice carrying his concern. “What? What is it?”  
Beverly sighed and offered a sympathetic smile. “We’ve really done it this time, Jean-Luc. You’re bleeding.”  
Lifting himself up onto his elbows, Jean-Luc frowned, his gaze settling on his penis. “You mean the head?”  
“No.” Said Beverly worriedly. “From inside.”  
Having had the abraded skin of his glans healed, Jean-Luc sat up and took his penis in his hands, lifting it gently and seeing the small amount of blood ooze from the urethral opening. “Where’s the blood coming from?” He tried to keep his tone bland, but he was deeply worried.  
“Probably your testicles, but it could be your prostate or one of the seminal vesicles.”  
“And the treatment is?”  
Beverly shrugged, doing her best to ease his worry. “Well it depends. If it’s something simple, like a tear of the urethra or either of the vas or just a matter of overuse of the entire system, then deep regeneration will suffice. But...” She took a deep breath. “If it involves the epididymis I’m afraid that will take surgery to repair. Either way, you’re going to have to go to sickbay. I can’t treat it here.”  
His scowling face prepared Beverly for his displeasure.   
“Oh, Jesus, Beverly! I don’t want the entire sickbay staff knowing my...genitals...are going under the bloody microscope!”  
Keeping her tone gentle and reasonable, Beverly said softly,  
“You know that’s not how my sickbay works, Jean-Luc. You will be afforded the same amount of privacy any one of our patients receive. And...you also know we won’t be using a microscope! You will be scanned and treated, just like anyone else. Surely you must realise I’ll make sure your treatment is discreet? I mean, even if you require surgery; you’ll be out of sickbay in an hour or so. It’s not as if you’ll be in there for days with your genitals on display for all to see.”  
Her words took the wind out of his sails and he sighed, offering a rueful and apologetic grin. “You know, I don’t think it’s ever going to matter how evolved humankind becomes, men will always be paranoid about their tackle.”  
“Tackle?” Beverly chuckled. “I haven’t heard that one before.”  
Jean-Luc’s grin widened. “It’s an old Earth term for a man’s genitalia.”  
Rolling her eyes, Beverly gave him a look that said ‘really’. He snorted.  
“It’s short for ‘wedding tackle.’”  
Blinking in surprise, Beverly snorted. “You’re kidding.”  
He shook his head. “No, that particular description was once quite popular.”  
Shaking her head, Beverly gently pushed Jean-Luc, encouraging him out of the bed. The by now established routine of changing the bed and showering was undertaken by rote. As they worked, Beverly said sardonically, “I would’ve thought a man who could speak...fluently...nineteen languages could come up with something better than...wedding tackle.”  
He said nothing until the bed was freshly made and they were heading into the bathroom. As Beverly opened the shower stall and activated the water, he said softly,  
“Would you like me to begin the litany of slang descriptions for the genitalia of both genders? In all nineteen languages?”  
Beverly laughed out loud and shook her head. “No, not now, but after, when things have settled down and we can throw the stimulant out an air lock, you can use your command of languages as foreplay.”  
He grinned, then sobered a little. “Agreed, on one condition.”  
Too tired to argue, Beverly simply said, “What?”  
“That you have a scan tomorrow.”  
She shrugged her agreement. “Okay, we’ll be at sickbay in the morning anyway and I suppose it’ll pass the time while you’re treated.”  
She saw Jean-Luc looking down at his penis and she gently kissed his neck. “It’s okay, my love. It’ll bleed a bit overnight, but it shouldn’t trouble you.”  
He smiled his thanks, but dreaded the coming day.

 

Despite her promise, Beverly delayed her scan, mostly because she knew Jean-Luc would be extremely uncomfortable with anyone but her doing the scan and treatment of his injuries. To his great relief, Beverly scanned him through his briefs, although having to strip down to his underwear hadn’t really gone down too well, but the alternative of being completely naked was enough to stifle his complaints.  
With a thoughtful look on her face, her eyes directed at the interesting contours of the contents of his briefs, Jean-Luc could see she wasn’t actually seeing anything. As if on autopilot, Beverly’s hand put the scanner module back into its housing at the top of the medical tricorder. Her silence was beginning to worry the captain, so he quietly cleared his throat. It didn’t work, making Jean-Luc frown. His next move was to speak.  
“Beverly?”  
Nothing. Louder and with some authority, he said,  
“Doctor!”  
Snapped out of her reverie, Beverly blinked and offered a crooked smile.   
“Well, um...you did a bit more damage that I thought, Jean-Luc.” She glanced back down at his package and sighed. When she said nothing more, Jean-Luc said with exasperation,  
“What is the damage, Beverly? How bad is it?”  
Scratching her head and looking slightly embarrassed, Beverly said sheepishly,  
“The epididymis of both testicles has suffered ruptures, the vas deferens on the left side is torn, the prostate is very swollen and the left seminal vesicle has split.”   
At seeing Jean-Luc’s shocked face, she continued very quietly. “And both Cowper’s glands are in a very irritated and swollen state. I doubt very much they’re functioning.” Before he could ask, she tried to take the shock and fear out of her diagnosis by smiling and gently running her hand up and down his arm.  
“It’s all fixable, Jean-Luc. You’ll be here just a few hours and given a day or two, you’ll never know you were...injured.”  
Trying his best to get his head around what she’d told him, he kept glancing down at his briefs and their contents, a look of worry and fear on his face. Very quietly he said, “So what’s bleeding?”  
Beverly shrugged and lifted her eyebrows. Unfortunately her tone wasn’t as serious or sympathetic as Jean-Luc would’ve liked. She actually chuckled, making things worse as she replied,  
“Take your pick! Any one or all of these...” She proffered the tricorder, as if Jean-Luc wanted to see the images. “Could be responsible.”  
He scowled, saying darkly, “I don’t find this particularly amusing, Doctor.”  
Taking a deep breath and letting it out through her nose, Beverly bowed her head and placed her hand on Jean-Luc’s thigh.  
“Sorry. It’s just that I can’t stop thinking about how you came to acquire these injuries.” She looked up slyly and snorted. “I mean surely you’re not complaining?”  
Shaking his head in annoyed exasperation, Jean-Luc said very quietly, “While I take your point, Beverly, it’s not your reproductive system that’s been...battered into submission.”  
The Doctor had the good grace to at least show some sympathy. Looking into his eyes, she said gently, “Really, Jean-Luc, you’ll be as good as new in no time.”  
His annoyance eased and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Very well. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”  
Three hours later, Jean-Luc was lying naked and quiet on the bed in his private room in sickbay, the blue beams of the regeneration equipment aimed at his genitals, which were discreetly covered by a square, silver cloth. As Beverly had assured him, the surgery was relatively quick and uncomplicated. His head was turned to one side as Selar ran a quick scan over Beverly’s lower belly. Looking suitably bored, Beverly’s eyes wandered around the room, studiously ignoring her lover who watched with growing amusement and interest. Selar had already told Beverly she had internal damage that required treatment and as the scan progressed, Jean-Luc was quietly anticipating more news of further damage, feeling smugly pleased. Not that Beverly was injured per se, that actually worried him, but that her internal parts had proved to be just as vulnerable...and delicate, as his. What neither Jean-Luc nor Beverly was prepared for was Selar saying,  
“A morula, three day’s gestation, measuring 0.14mm.” Offering the tricorder, Selar said with quiet detachment, “I believe it is customary to congratulate the prospective parents. I offer my congratulations to you both.”  
Confused, Jean-Luc sat up, frowning deeply. “A what?”  
Absently, Beverly muttered, “A morula, otherwise known as a blastomere.”  
“Meaning what, exactly?” Jean-Luc’s tone was becoming exasperated.  
Looking at him, Beverly’s smile was lopsided, her eyes twinkling. “We’re pregnant, Jean-Luc.”  
He quickly assimilated that, but still frowned. “Those terms. Elaborate, what the hell do they mean?”  
With a look and a smile, Beverly dismissed her colleague. Moving to Jean-Luc’s bed, she showed him the image on the tricorder’s screen. “See that little grey blob?”  
He nodded.  
“That is a three day old morula. The cells have gone through a lot of division and now are a mass of 32 cells and it measures 0.14mm in size. At the moment it’s still in my fallopian tube, but within the next 24 hours, it will travel into my uterus where it will attach itself to the uterine wall.” She grinned then and said sarcastically, but not unkindly, “I think you know the rest, Jean -Luc.”  
His eyes wide, Jean-Luc whispered, “And it’s all right? It isn’t an ectopic pregnancy?”  
Beverly’s grin grew until she chuckled.  
“Nup, it’s perfectly normal.”  
He looked at Beverly with utter delight, then just as quickly frowned. “Your injuries?”  
She shrugged. “No problem there, none of them extend past my cervix. Selar will use an intra vaginal probe to gently treat them, then it’s a simple matter of a bit of very carefully focused regen.”  
Jean-Luc’s frown deepened. “Carefully focused? Why? Why very carefully focused?”  
Sighing, Beverly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “We do have to be careful using regeneration beams on pregnant females, although it’s of more importance in the very early stages rather than later when an embryo has formed and is developing into a foetus.”  
His eyes narrowed making Beverly sigh. “Is it dangerous to you or the...baby?”  
“Not to me, but exposure to regen beams at this very early stage of the development could cause problems in the morula.”  
“Like what?”  
Exasperated and becoming annoyed, Beverly waved her hand. “Jean-Luc, relax! Selar knows what she’s doing. Everything will be fine.”  
Shaking his head, Jean-Luc refused to be mollified. “Tell me what problems can arise.”  
Bowing her head, Beverly held up her hands. “Okay. There is a slight...very remote...chance of spontaneous abortion, disruption of development of the forming embryo or, and this is exceptionally rare, the developing collection of cells can split, forming two individual embryonic forms, neither of which would be viable.”  
Jean-Luc folded his arms across his bare chest and shook his head, his expression hard, bordering on his captain’s persona.  
“Well it seems to me that the risk is too great.”  
Now becoming irritated, Beverly put her fisted hands on her hips and glared hotly. “What the hell do you think we Doctors are, Jean-Luc? Witch doctors? Sharman? The technology is sound! It is used very day, thousands of times, all over the Federation on pregnant females of all stages of pregnancy. You are not the first man to father a child! Stop being such a bloody drama queen and let Selar do her job!”  
Somewhat taken aback by her outburst, Jean-Luc didn’t know quite how to respond. The captain would most certainly not be spoken to in such a manner, but an over protective lover who had just been told he was going to become a father? Hmm. Different thing entirely and requiring a very careful approach.  
In the end, Jean-Luc allowed his love for Beverly to guide him. Taking her hands in his, he looked into her eyes and said softly, “I’m sorry, Beverly. Forgive me please.”  
Relenting, Beverly smiled, then narrowed her eyes. “Just don’t think for a second that you can hover over me for the next nine months! I’m pregnant, Jean-Luc, not disabled. Pregnancy is not an illness. Just remember that and we’ll be fine.”  
He lowered his eyes and smiled. “Very well, but I can still pamper you, can’t I?”  
An impish smile emerged. “Well...yes...”  
He looked up and offered one of his rare full grins. “Good! Now...” He looked at the door and pointed. “I believe you have a treatment to undergo.”  
Her glare lacked any real venom, but she said darkly, “You can be insufferably smug sometimes, Jean-Luc.”  
He simply chuckled and nodded. “I know.”  
He was still highly delighted and amused well after Beverly had left the room. “We’re pregnant. I’m going to be a father. Good Lord!”  
If any of Beverly’s staff or indeed any of the ship’s crew could see the usually austere captain now, they would not have believed their eyes. Goofy grins were not something he ever did and would not have been recognised for what it was. Only Jean-Luc knew and that was just fine by him.

 

As the pregnancy progressed, Beverly began to glow. Just as she’d been with her first confinement, she was disgustingly healthy and it was a very happy and contented couple who enjoyed the regular scans, showing the slow but steady development of their child.  
After making gentle, intense love, they lay together, Jean-Luc on his back, Beverly stretched along his side, her head resting on his shoulder as she idly played with his chest hair. An hour passed in quietude, both just enjoying the peace. When he eventually spoke, his deep voice rumbled through his body, stirring Beverly from her post coital daze. In fact she didn’t hear him at first, making him repeat himself.  
“I said; it might be nice to take some time off.”  
Her eyes opening fully, Beverly raised her lower lip. “Well I suppose a few days resting and using the Holodecks might be nice, but I do have a lot on at work at the moment.”  
Tucking in his chin and tilting his head so he could see Beverly by the dim light of the passing stars, Jean-Luc’s voice carried slight caution. “I wasn’t thinking about a few days, nor was I thinking about staying on the ship.”  
Lifting her head, Beverly frowned. “What were you thinking?”  
He raised one hand and gently ran his fingers through Beverly’s hair, careful not to tug on any tangles. One thing their lovemaking always did was to turn Beverly’s lovely red tresses into a rat’s nest. “How about a month on some out-of-the-way planet?”  
Her reaction was to rise up and gape. “Who the hell are you and what have you done with my lover?”  
He chuckled and rose up on one elbow, lifting a hand to trail his fingers down Beverly’s face.  
“You and I have both got a tremendous amount of leave owing; we could, if we so chose, take almost two years off!”  
Before he could say anything more, Beverly shook her head.  
“Nup, I don’t believe it. No way.”  
Frowning, Jean-Luc said gently, “What don’t you believe?” His tone carrying signs he’d been offended.  
Beverly frowned too, shaking her head.  
“You! Jean-Luc...you detest taking leave! And now you’re suggesting we take a month off? What the hell’s got into you?”  
He summoned a smile, trying his best not to be hurt by her stinging words. His voice was very deep and gentle as he said, “I admit you are correct in that in the past I may have been somewhat reluctant to take leave...” He silenced Beverly with a raised finger. “But a lot has changed, my love. Not only do I have you in my life, not just as my best friend, but as my lover and mother to our developing child. My priorities have shifted, Beverly. My life had undergone a fundamental change, for the better. Mt captaincy is no longer the most important thing to me any more...you are! You and our child.”   
He gently laid his hand on Beverly’s belly and sighed. “I know you’re perfectly well and for that I’m eternally grateful, but soon enough your body is going to begin to feel the effects of this pregnancy and I thought it might be nice to spend some private, personal time together before that happens.”  
Tilting her head, Beverly considered his words. She’d certainly never thought he’d confess to anything being more important to him than his captaincy, but on reflection she had to admit she had begun to feel the same way. Being the CMO, in fact staying in space was slowly becoming less attractive. Before she and Jean-Luc had become lovers; that is after their difficulties, she had slowly realised that what she’d always assumed, that being that she’d stay on in Starfleet until such time as she retired and then found somewhere quiet to continue to practice until she no longer wanted to, then...She sighed. She’d never got past that point. An aged facility? Euthanasia? Her eventual demise wasn’t something she’d ever given much thought to, mainly because it frightened her for no other reason than she’d long come to the conclusion she’d most probably be alone. Of course it was all moot anyway. Living and working in space was inherently dangerous and one could die at any time, that was the nature of the job and something that was accepted by those who chose to serve. It had never occurred to her that perhaps Jean-Luc had entertained the same thoughts.  
And of course he was right, although she hated to admit it; the latter stages of the pregnancy, given her age, were going to tax her, both physically and psychologically, so even though she was shocked by his suggestion, it did have its merits.  
Warming to the idea, she was still reluctant to accede quite yet. “Okay, but what about our work?”  
In the dimness of the room, she saw him shrug. “As for me, there’s nothing in the near future that requires my personal attention, certainly nothing Will can’t handle and, forgive me Beverly, but I’ve checked and I know for a fact there’s nothing that actually requires you to be present either.”  
Anger spiked, making her voice cold. “You’ve been checking up on me?”  
Without a trace of contrition or fear, Jean-Luc said with quiet equanimity, “Yes.”  
Before Beverly could launch into an outraged tirade, Jean-Luc placed two fingers on her lips.  
“Beverly, I didn’t do it because I lacked faith in you, or to show any concern that you might be finding it difficult to do your job, considering your circumstances, I know that’s not the case, nor does anyone know I’ve been checking. I simply needed to know that when I broached the subject of taking leave that I could do so with the knowledge that despite your predictable excuse of having too much work on, I knew differently. Think of it this way. I’m either being a dedicated Captain, concerned for one of his senior staff, or a man hopelessly in love with his partner and wanting to spend some quality time with her while we still can.”  
It took a few minutes of brittle silence while Beverly slowly subsided. Eventually she sighed and made an attempt to tame her hair. “Okay, you may have a point. But what about after?”  
Pleased she was being reasonable; he was still a little suspicious. Narrowing his eyes he said cautiously, “After what?”  
Rolling her eyes, Beverly rose up completely and sat cross-legged. Jean-Luc couldn’t stop his gaze wandering appreciatively over her breasts. She didn’t smile, but her amused eyes showed she knew exactly what he was doing. With her hand in front of his face she snapped her fingers. “Hey, my face is up here.”  
He grinned and lifted a hand to gently tease out her nipple. She could see he was quickly losing track of the conversation. Her voice showed slight irritation. “Jean-Luc.”  
He blinked and snorted softly, realising what he was doing. “Sorry, my love, but seeing you like this...it’s every one of my fantasies made real and sometimes I just can’t believe you’re really here, in our bed, naked and looking so damned...fuckable.”  
Chortling softly at his comment, she reciprocated by pushing the covers off him and teasing his slowly hardening penis. In a lightly conversational tone, completely at odds with her growing arousal, Beverly said, “To answer your question, I was referring to after the baby’s born. We’re going to need to take quite a bit of time off. If we’ve already taken leave now, how is Command going to take our further requests for more leave so soon after this one?”  
His intense gaze was back on her breasts, his eyes darkening as her nipples stiffened and his erection grew under her teasing fingers. He shrugged and Beverly knew the conversation had reached an end. Their lovemaking however, was just about to resume.  
Later, their sweat soaked bodies cooling slowly, Jean-Luc said softly, “I don’t give a damn.”  
Keeping her eyes closed, a confused Beverly tried to put his words into some kind of context. So languid and relaxed, her brain refused to do the work, so she merely grunted and said, “What? What don’t you give a damn about?”  
Sighing, Jean-Luc turned over and pulled her to him, entwining their legs and slowly tracing the nodes of her spine. “Command. If they won’t grant us leave after the baby’s born, I’ll tell them to go fuck themselves and we’ll take it anyway.”  
Beverly giggled, not believing what she was hearing. Never had she thought she’d ever hear him say anything remotely like that about his superiors. Lazily she nibbled his earlobe and said softly, “You wouldn’t dare.”  
His voice was just a deep rumble. “Wouldn’t I just?”  
They slipped into sleep, but not before Beverly thought, “My God, I think he actually means it!”  
Jean-Luc put in the request for a month’s leave for both of them the next morning and he worded it in such a way as to give command little option but to agree, although he made no mention of Beverly’s pregnancy. If his standing in Starfleet had gained him anything, it was the right to be somewhat forceful when he thought it appropriate and his superiors recognised this and afforded him quite a bit of latitude. How much that relaxation of protocol extended would be tested after the baby had been born. Time would tell.

 

With the thin metal tube connected to her portal, Meredith interfaced with her suite’s computer, up linking to the very sophisticated computer on her vessel, now housed in a private and guarded large hangar at a secluded flight terminal, and scanned the latest communiqués between Command and the Enterprise. She had been staying in the hotel for just over a month and her new home was almost ready. Time, she thought, to check up on her Beverly.  
Reading faster than any normal human could, Meredith skimmed over the usual boring communications traffic, but suddenly sat up, her eerie eyes narrowing. Using the power of her mental connection, she stopped the flow of information and backed it up until the particular communiqué that had caught her attention was displayed. As she read, a furious scowl formed. She rose to her feet so abruptly she almost disconnected herself.  
“Fuck!” She shouted. “You can’t do this to me!” Her voice rose to a shriek.  
Everything was in place, months of intricate planning and all she’d been through all depended on the Enterprise sticking to her schedule. But somehow it had never occurred to her that, although the ship might not alter its schedule, her captain and CMO might.  
Reaching up, she tugged the solid tip of the tube out of its portal under her ear and began to pace around the room, her long strides only accentuating how confined she felt in the hotel suite.  
“Leave? You and the fucker?” She yelled. “What the fuck does that mean? Where are you going?!”   
Unable to contain her fury, Meredith went into her spacious bedroom, retrieved her trusty knife and began to slash and stab anything and everything within reach; wishing with every gram of her being that it was living flesh she was mutilating. It was over an hour before she calmed. Righting the overturned seat, the beautifully embossed fabric gaping open, revealing the padding underneath, she straightened the skewed monitor and reconnected the tube.  
She still wasn’t thinking clearly, had she given the problem sufficient thought she would’ve done some specific digging in the Enterprise’s computer, sniffing around to see what might have precipitated this unusual state of affairs through the personal logs. But clear thinking had long ago deserted Meredith Bower, she now functioned on instinct and desire alone, her only imperative was to achieve her goals and nothing would stand in her way. So she concentrated her efforts on any flight plans for shuttles, runabouts or the captain’s yacht that might’ve been lodged, but came up empty.  
She felt the ferocious fury rising again and shook her head, savagely pushing it aside. “No! I’ll save it for Picard.” That brought an insane grin. “After all, he deserves to feel the full force of my outrage. How dare he put his fucking cock inside my Beverly! Oh, God, how she must hate it!” Incredibly, sadness made Meredith’s face crumple. “Oh my poor, poor Beverly. You must be such deep despair! Do you think I’ve forgotten you? Abandoned you to that fucking piece of shit you’ve had to endure?” She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her head back and trailing her long fingers down the column of her neck. “Not long now, Beverly, just hold on a little while longer. I’ll find you and then, once you’ve been made even more beautiful...” She chuckled and let her fingers slide down her naked body. “When you’re like me, I’ll bring you home and we will be so happy, my sweet Beverly. I’ll show you things, teach you things that will delight and astound you. I will show you true ecstasy, my lovely Beverly, my beautiful Beverly.”  
Lost in her delusions, Meredith sat at the computer for half an hour before she sighed, opened her eyes and stared blankly at the screen, deep in thought. “I’ll check three times a day until I find out where you’re going, my sweet Beverly and once you get there, I’ll come for you.” She grinned and allowed her tongue to extend, long, narrow and hardened to a sharp, solid tip. “Both of you, after all, one has to be allowed some recompense...some fun after all the trouble I’ve gone through.” Her demented laughter rattled around the ruined rooms.

 

 

“Well,” Sighed Jean-Luc, squinting at the PADD. “There’s...” Beverly silenced him by holding up one finger. “Don’t tell me their names or what system they’re in; just give me the most relevant details.”  
Jean-Luc grinned and shook his head. “Very well. Snow, surf or rainforest.”  
“Hmm,” Mused Beverly, idly tapping her index fingernail against her teeth. “Cold, hot or humid.” Eyeing her lover, she chortled and rolled over to cover his naked body with hers. With her elbows near his shoulders, she folded one forearm over the other, then lowered her chin to her hands. Their noses were almost touching, their faces only separated by the PADD and his erection which was trapped between them. This particular game had been in progress for over two hours and she privately marvelled at his ability to restrain himself while maintaining his composure and his erection.  
He had honoured his promise, reciting all the slang terms in every language he knew to describe the genitalia of both genders. Beverly wasn’t sure whether it was the content, even though she didn’t exactly understand the words, or the deep sensuous timbre of his baritone, but as she had suspected it would, it aroused her. But, feeling capricious and in the mood for play, she had, by gestures and looks, let Jean-Luc know that it was going to be some time before they actually made love. Surprisingly he accepted this, even teasing Beverly as subtly as she teased him.  
The discussion about where to take their leave, for instance. They had sat cross legged on the floor of the living area, both naked and Jean-Luc’s cock stiff while he calmly accessed the computer via a PADD. Beverly drizzled honey over the head of his cock, then slothfully licked it off. He didn’t falter, the only overt reaction was his penis twitching and becoming harder still.  
To see if she could distract him some other way, Beverly had uncrossed her legs and, bending at the knees, parted them while leaning back, supporting herself on her straight arms behind her.  
He kept his gaze fixed on the PADD, but let one leg free to span the distance between them to tease her sex with the toes of his foot. It was a very gentle invasion, not enough to bring her to orgasm, but certainly enough to heighten her desire. The smell of sex was permeating the room and Beverly was aching inside. She slowly stood and, using her foot, gently placed it on Jean-Luc’s chest and pushed him backwards. He went willingly, still holding the PADD, his eyes never leaving the screen. Once on his back, he straightened his legs and at Beverly’s careful encouragement, parted them so she could stand between them.  
His cock was lying along his lower belly, visibly throbbing and slightly curving to the left over his hip, a bead of pearl liquid had left a trail down one side of his shaft from the slit. Showing her well-refined dancer’s balance, she stood on one foot and used the other to caress his penis, spreading the fluid and pushing her great toe gently upwards where the frenulum met the glans. She’d felt sure that would get his attention and in a way it did, just not as she expected. Drawing one leg up until his knee was almost at his chest, he extended his leg up until he covered her sex with the ball of his foot. She wondered if he would push her backwards, but he had a much better idea. Gently rocking his foot from side-to-side, the sensation of having her clit massaged made Beverly gasp. That was the first sound either had made for some time.  
Her mind turning over, trying to think up something that would break him down, Beverly took his foot and eased it back down. He obliged and lay quietly, still seemingly engrossed in the PADD. Stepping outside his legs, Beverly straddled him and walked up his body until she was standing directly over his head. Lowering herself, she presented him with her wet, deep red and open sex.   
Jean-Luc’s response was to take the PADD in one hand, hold it to one side and turn his head to continue to read. With his free hand, he idly but gently penetrated her with two fingers and slid his thumb around, but not touching her clit.  
Although incredibly frustrating, it was exactly what Beverly wanted. It kept her just where she wanted to be. Highly aroused and with growing anticipation of what would eventually happen. She reached behind her and used her fingers to tease the head of his cock and finally he sighed, his eyes momentarily fluttering. Just as Beverly was about to mew triumphantly, he brushed his thumb over her clit. The sudden... “Oh!” That escaped Beverly made Jean-Luc grin in what she could only describe as Gallic smugness. With a huff of mild annoyance at having been bested at her own game, Beverly stood and held out her hand. To his raised eyebrow, Beverly said sultrily, “Let’s take this to the bedroom...but bring the PADD.”  
He looked down with dark eyes as she took hold of his stiff cock and led him into the room. She let go of him, fully expecting him to lie on the bed, but Jean-Luc was well equipped to tease too. Lowering the PADD, he stared into Beverly’s eyes, transfixing her as he again slid his fingers through her folds before pushing then inside her, but what he did next made her moan involuntarily. He curled his fingers inside her and led her to the bed.  
Her mouth was agape and her eyes wide as he lay down, his fingers still embedded in her. She joined him on the bed, straddling his hips and rocking back and forth, achieving two things. She increased the pressure of his intimate caress and rubbed both her sex and his own hand over his cock.  
They were both becoming lost in the sensations when Beverly abruptly rolled sideways, dislodging Jean-Luc’s hand and stretching out beside him. With no outward reaction, Jean-Luc merely lifted the PADD and once again began to read. Beverly’s smile was both wicked and filled with admiration. For a while she was content to rest her head on his shoulder while she slothfully eased his foreskin up and down his penis, with the occasional caress to his balls.  
She had never had a lover quite like him. Without touching her, or saying a word, he was somehow keeping her deeply aroused. Her eyes drifted over his lean body, her desire increasing as she watched as she slowly stroked him. Eventually she knew she was reaching her limits. That was when she rolled back on top of him and asked about their leave destination options.  
Bumping her nose against the PADD he lowered it and she almost gasped at the dark desire in his eyes.  
“Snow.” She said huskily.  
“Excellent choice.”   
He knew the game had reached its end. Dropping the PADD to the floor, he rolled and pinned Beverly under him. Taking her hands, he trapped them beside her head as he shoved her legs apart with his knees. Lowering his head until he could trace the contours of her inner ear with his tongue he whispered hoarsely, “Now you will pay for teasing me so shamelessly. I’m going to fuck you, Beverly, hard and fast.”  
He had never spoken to her with such blatant sexual menace and although Beverly knew she was perfectly safe and that he would never hurt her, some part of her, deep inside, thrilled that he seemed to know what she both wanted and needed.  
He rose up on his arms and pushed with his hips, sliding the head of his large cock through her saturated folds, continuously slipping over her clit. She glared up defiantly, baring her teeth and hissing, “If you want me, you’ll have to take me!”  
He grinned, his eyes glittering. “Oh, I will, you can be sure of that...but when I’m ready, Beverly and not before.”  
Her eyes blazing, she spat, “Fuck you!”  
Lowering his head he bit her neck, then said sharply, “No, Beverly, fuck you!” He shoved himself inside her with such force Beverly was pushed up the bed. Her head craned back, her mouth wide open in a silent scream. As he pounded in and out of her, she didn’t hear his grunts and softly gasped profanities; she was too lost in sexual overload.  
Having both been so deeply aroused for so long, it was over quickly, but that took nothing away from the potency of their orgasms. As Jean-Luc’s sight and hearing slowly returned to him, he became aware of Beverly softly moaning his name over and over.   
Utterly spent, but knowing he couldn’t keep lying on Beverly; Jean-Luc rolled to his side, his cock slipping out with an audible wet, sucking sound. He’d come so hard, his balls were still aching and through the head of his cock, small shocks made him grimace with both discomfort and intense pleasure.  
It was some time before either of them spoke. It was Beverly.  
“Jesus, I had no idea you could be like that, Jean-Luc. I haven’t been fucked like that before.”  
Opening his eyes, Jean-Luc sighed. His voice contained a trace of regret and embarrassment. “There was a time, my love, when that was the only way I knew how to have sex. I was young and I thought I was God’s gift to women. I fucked anything remotely female and willing. I had yet to discover the difference between having sex and making love.”  
Lazily rolling onto her side, Beverly frowned at her lover. “You don’t regret what we just did...do you?”  
Turning his head he offered a rueful grin. “Not in the least, mainly because I know we love each other and what we just did was to express ourselves in a slightly different way.” He rose up on one elbow and tucked an errant strand of Beverly’s wild hair behind her ear. By his guarded expression she knew he had become serious. “However, although it was extraordinarily satisfying, may I ask that we don’t do it that way too often?”   
Before she could ask why, Jean-Luc supplied the answer. “Our first priority for the foreseeable future is your pregnancy and maybe such...forceful sex might not be such a good idea.”  
Nodding her agreement, Beverly knew there was more. “And?”  
He sighed and closed his eyes, suddenly embarrassed. Intrigued, Beverly said gently, “Jean-Luc?”  
Very softly running his fingers down her neck and over her breast to tenderly caress her nipple, he said very quietly, “I know this is going to sound archaic and lame, but I love you, Beverly and I want to demonstrate that love when we enjoy intimacy. That’s not to say that games don’t have their place, I would be the first to say I never want our sex life to become boring or predictable, but...” He sighed and shook his head. “Let’s just say it’s a hold-over from my wild days. I don’t want to fuck you, Beverly, not even when we’re having a quickie. At least I don’t. You can do as you please; I’m only offering my perspective. Don’t feel you have to be constrained.”  
Beverly gave Jean-Luc a long look and slowly nodded. “I understand, Jean-Luc, and you needn’t worry, after all in our case it takes two to have sex and I really don’t want to not be...in synch with you...I want to be in the same place, the same mindset as you when we make love. So as long as I know, once the baby’s born that we can occasionally play games, then that’s fine by me. We’re on the same page, my love.”  
Sighing deeply with satisfaction and love, Jean-Luc smiled, saying mildly, “So, snow?”  
Rolling onto her back, Beverly raised her arms above her head and stretched, enjoying the feeling of Jean-Luc’s large warm hand as it drifted over her still hot skin.  
“Hmm, log fires, big beds with lots of covers and cold, crisp air.”  
Watching his hand, marvelling at the perfection of her skin, Jean-Luc asked absently, “Do you ski?”  
“Nup.”  
His eyebrows rose. “Really?” Gently cupping her chin, he turned her face to him and kissed her tenderly. “Would you like me to teach you?”  
With dancing eyes, Beverly grinned. “You ski?”  
“Uh huh. Water and snow.”  
Reaching down to pull the covers up, Beverly snuggled into his embrace, saying sleepily, “You never cease to amaze me, Jean-Luc.”  
Gently stroking her hair, Jean-Luc moved his head until he found a comfortable spot on his pillow and sighed. Silently he thought, “Oh, but Beverly, my love, you astound me!”  
They slipped into sleep and dreamed.

 

Meredith’s eerie eyes gleamed as she read the subspace traffic between command and the Enterprise. “Marena? So, my lovely one, you want to play in the snow? How delightful! You would look so gorgeous all bundled up and so in need of unwrapping All those layers! Fuck, what a tease.” She abruptly scowled then and her face lost its happy animation. “But you won’t be alone, will you.”  
She plucked the tube out of its portal and strode around the confines of her suite, savagely kicking and throwing the broken furniture out of her way.  
“Why? Why do you stay with him?! You could’ve left him long ago, or even killed the fucker!” She came to an abrupt halt and grinned coldly. “You could’ve cut off his cock! Ha! Now that would’ve sent a message. I bet he’d let you go then.” But still the thought of Beverly seeming to be willing to stay with Jean-Luc rankled the insane woman. No matter how much she tried to rationalise Beverly’s behaviour, she always came back to the same conclusion.  
“You’re biding your time, aren’t you? Waiting for me, lulling the prick into a false sense of security so that when I come for you, you will present me with not only your incredible self, but a plaything...a reward for my dignified patience.”  
The conclusion made such clear sense to Meredith that she no longer bothered to think about it. It took only half an hour to pack and transport her bags to her vessel. Payment for both her stay and the damage to her suite was done remotely and in latinum...no trace as usual...before she lifted her hand and spoke softly to her wrist.  
“Computer beam me aboard.”  
Safely within her craft, she organised payment for her vessel’s guards and the rental of the hangar, again with latinum. If asked, no one, not the hotel staff or the flight terminal workers would be able to offer any information as to who employed them or who owned the craft. Indeed, even the vessel was registered in such a way as to make it untraceable. Not even its warp signature could be identified.  
To all intents and purposes, Meredith Bower was invisible; certainly the human Meredith Bower no longer existed, not physically or in any recent records. She had simply disappeared.  
Still naked, Meredith took only a few moments to input the course, destination and speed into the computer, before leaving the living area to stretch out on her bed to begin her ritual of rubbing in the creams. If she felt the vessel move out of the hangar, slowly gain height then, once out of the planet’s atmosphere jump to warp, she gave no sign, too immersed in sensual distraction.  
Three clinical orgasms later she sighed and said whimsically, “Computer, ETA at Marena?”  
“At present speed, six point four days.”  
“Well,” she sighed wistfully. “No need to hurry then.”  
She rose from the bed with languid grace and settled at the monitor in the living area, quickly connecting herself. Within seconds she had access to all the resorts and main accommodation establishments on the planet. But she very quickly found there was no record of any bookings under either the name of Picard or Crusher. Insidious anger quickly spiked, but she shoved it away.  
“So either you haven’t booked yet, you’ve chosen a different name to book under, or...you’re not going to stay in the main areas. Hmm, which one, I wonder? Where are you going, my lovely one, my Beverly?”  
She sat back, watching with mild amusement as she scrolled effortlessly through all the available accommodations, even the most remote cabins had to log any booking. Nothing. She sighed and smiled. “No matter, you’ll turn up soon enough.”  
Checking her ETA again, a nervous action she didn’t recognise, she compared her vessel’s arrival time with that of Beverly’s and quickly realised she would get there almost two full days before her intended lover. Meredith grin was so wide, her exposed startlingly white, large, square teeth so odd, it made her face look grotesque.  
“I’ll have plenty of time to prepare. Oh, what fun!”  
She felt so happy she spent an hour accessing historical information about erotic paraphernalia. It was nothing she didn’t already know, of course, but it was just so titillating to see these ancient objects on the screen she actually laughed out loud. She had something in mind and the more she thought about it, the more delighted and amused she became. “Oh fuck!” She giggled coldly. “How appropriate for a so-called history expert!”  
Her laughter went on and on, growing evermore manic.

 

Jean-Luc was slowly losing patience. The ‘goodbyes’ had been in progress for over half an hour now and he was becoming increasingly restless. Taking Beverly’s hand in an uncharacteristic display of public physical contact, he gently pulled his partner to him and leaned so his mouth was near her ear. “Beverly,” he whispered. “We’re only going to be gone for a month. It’s not as if we’re never going to see our friends again.”  
Keeping her smile in place and her dancing eyes on Deanna, who was wearing a knowing smile of her own, Beverly half-turned to whisper back, “You might not enjoy demonstrations of demonstrative affection, Jean-Luc, but I do!”  
Will grinned at his captain, knowing full well what was going on. It earned him a cold look, but Will knew there was no real venom in it. “Everything’s aboard, Captain. The Southern Cross is standing by.”  
“As she has been for some time now.” Jean-Luc commented dryly.  
Will shrugged. “True, but Captain O’Donnell had no problem diverting to rendezvous with us to pick you and Beverly up. I mean you’re both Starfleet officers and this is the Enterprise, sir. It’s not as if it’s taking on board private individuals. They wouldn’t divert a prestige luxury ship like the Southern Cross for that. I don’t think they mind waiting, sir.”  
“Yes, well that may be so, Number One, but we’ve kept the good Captain waiting long enough, especially as we’ve chosen to travel as civilians.” Having said that, Jean-Luc gently took Beverly’s elbow and guided her up onto the transporter pad.  
The room was somewhat crowded with Will, Deanna, Geordi and Data all in attendance. Jean-Luc summoned a warm smile and said to Will, “Well, Number One, the ship is yours. Please see to it she’s returned to me in the same pristine condition I leave her with you.”  
“Aye, aye, Captain.”  
For some reason, Will was wearing his shit-eating grin which gave Jean-Luc cause for deep suspicion. Nevertheless, he ignored it to say dryly, “One ‘aye’ will suffice, Commander.”  
If anything Will’s grin grew.  
“Of course, Captain.”  
With one final speculative look at his exec. Jean-Luc said firmly, “Energise.”  
As the group filed out of the transporter room, Deanna dug Will in his ribs. “Out with it, Will!”  
Raising his eyebrows in feigned innocence; Will couldn’t hide that trademark grin. “Out with what?”  
Deanna’s look was frankly disbelieving. “Whatever it is you find so damned funny that you’re just about giving yourself a hernia in your efforts to contain it!”  
At that Will burst out guffawing. He eventually had to support himself with one hand planted on the wall as he regained his composure. “Okay”, he gasped, wiping his eyes. “The Captain thinks the Captain of the Southern Cross is a male. He’s wrong. Captain O’Donnell is an old friend of mine. And Kerry O’Donnell has had a thing for our Captain for years! In fact she’s been wanting to get into Captain Picard’s pants for so long...” He began to chuckle again, his eyes filling with tears of amusement once more. Deanna didn’t find it so amusing.  
“Will!” she said harshly. “This isn’t funny! What about Beverly? How do you think she’s going to feel having a woman...a Captain of a luxury cruiser, virtually on the prowl and with our Captain in her sights? Beverly’s pregnant with Captain Picard’s child, remember. This leave is for them to spend some quality time together.”

Will shook his head. “Oh, Dee,” he said, still wheezing. “Beverly can look after herself, God; she can hold her own in any situation. What I find so damned funny is how our reserved, buttoned-up Captain is going to do to fend Kerry off! Jesus, I wish I could be there!” He dissolved into laughter again and a disgusted Deanna left him where he was, stalking to the lift and saying over her shoulder, “When you get through your second adolescence, you can come back to our quarters.”  
It took a good five minutes before Will finally realised just how annoyed his lover was with him. Suddenly serious he muttered, “Oh, shit.” And made his way to the lift, but once inside a half-smile lingered. He shook his head, thinking, “Oh, yeah, you’re going to have to be quick on your feet to avoid Kerry O’Donnell, Captain.”

 

It had been a scant fifteen seconds since rematerialising in their suite on the cruiser that the door annunciator chimed. Jean-Luc had just placed the fourth bag (only one was his) on the huge bed, and he grimaced at the musical sound. He sighed fatalistically, saying to Beverly,  
“That’ll be Captain O’Donnell.” He frowned. “Although it was made clear when I booked that we wish to travel as civilians, I suppose it’s inevitable that a fellow Captain should wish to give us a tour of the ship.”  
“Yeah, I guess.” Said Beverly with a trace of annoyance, which made Jean-Luc’s frown deepen.   
“We can refuse, Beverly. There’s no rule that says we have to do anything. We’re on leave and travelling as civilians.” He reminded her gently.  
“You keep saying ‘we’, Jean-Luc. I’m no Captain.”  
Realisation dawned. “Ah.” He said with a rueful smile. “I see your point. Very well, I’ll ask for a brief tour and be back before you know it.”  
He moved to the door, but before pressing the release he looked over his shoulder and winked. “Half an hour at most.” He said confidently. He pressed the tab and was still looking at Beverly when the door opened. He could see by Beverly’s expression something was terribly amiss.  
His head snapped around and he had to clench his teeth from stopping his jaw from dropping. Before him stood one of the most stunningly attractive women he’d ever seen. Statuesque, voluptuous, with lustrous brunette hair which cascaded much like Beverly’s in soft waves, but longer, amazing, intense green eyes, ample breasts which were only just contained by the tastefully tailored bottle green jacket with gold piping around the sleeve ends, denoting her rank, and a dark tan skirt, which nicely accentuated her hips and long legs and, Jean-Luc knew with certainty, once she turned would no doubt afford him a view of her predictably perfect, pert backside.  
He could almost feel the frost forming on his back as he swallowed and plastered some sort of smile on his face. “Captain O’Donnell, I presume?”  
“At your...pleasure.” She actually batted her long, dark eyelashes. Her voice was surprisingly deep and husky and Jean-Luc almost took a backward step. He’d met his fair share of predatory women in his past, truth be told, he’d once actively sought them out, but that was long ago and in his new and precious relationship with Beverly he felt not only protective of her but nervous. Here was a woman on a mission, and there was no doubt he was the target.  
“I’m here,” she smiled, her full lips parting to show the obligatory perfect snowy white teeth. “...to offer you...” she tilted her head slightly to look past Jean-Luc and send Beverly a perfunctory smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “...and your...companion, a tour of my ship, Captain Picard.”  
Jean-Luc took a steadying breath, careful to disguise it. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Captain, but we...” he gestured to Beverly and sent her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “...have chosen to travel as civilians. So perhaps it might be more...appropriate if we were treated as any other passengers.”  
“Oh, but you’re not just any passenger, Captain! You’re Jean-Luc Picard!”  
Beverly had come forward to stand by her partner. Although she wasn’t ‘showing’ much yet, she placed her hand on her lower belly as she threaded her arm through Jean-Luc’s.  
“It’s for that very reason we’ve decided to travel incognito, as it were.” Beverly smiled coldly. “You’ve no idea the things...the people...Jean-Luc has to put up with as a Captain, especially one as famous as he. The Enterprise is the flagship of the fleet.”  
Smiling with equal chilliness and studiously ignoring Beverly’s protective hand on her belly, O’Donnell returned her gaze to Jean-Luc. The transformation was startling. Back came the almost coquettish fluttering of her eyelashes and provocative posing. “Well, I’m sure Jean-Luc would enjoy a look at a vessel designed purely for a specific purpose, much like his Enterprise but in this case... pleasure, rather than exploration, although some could say the seeking of pleasure is an exploration in and of itself.”  
The double entendre wasn’t lost on either officer and Jean-Luc had to tighten his arm against Beverly’s to keep her silent.  
“Actually, I think it more appropriate, under the circumstances, that I be addressed as Mr. Picard and my life partner as Mrs. Crusher.”  
For the first time, the calculating hardness of the woman showed in her remarkable green eyes. “I see. Well, that’s a pity...Mr. Picard. I would’ve liked to share some...experiences with you.”   
“Some other time, perhaps, Captain O’Donnell.”  
Inclining her head, the woman smiled. It was not a pleasant sight.  
“Call if you need anything.”  
“We will. Thank you, Captain.”  
Kerry stepped back and the door slid silently closed. The couple stood in silence for several long seconds. Jean-Luc actually counted them. He’d got to eight before Beverly exploded. “What a bitch! Did you see that way she looked at your crotch? My God...she undressed you right in front of me!”  
He sighed and turned, intending to take Beverly into his arms, but by the fire in her blazing eyes he knew that probably wasn’t such a good idea. Until Beverly had finished venting, he’d best just keep his mouth shut and keep a respectful distance between them.  
“And don’t think for one second that I didn’t see you ogling her tits! Jesus, Jean-Luc! If I’d not been here, you two would’ve...”  
He’d heard enough. Beverly had a right to feel threatened and jealous, but Jean-Luc wasn’t about to stand idly by while being falsely accused.  
“That is not true!” he barked. By the vehemence of his outburst, Beverly knew she’d overreacted. Calming herself somewhat she made a moue.  
“All right, that may have been unwarranted, but you can’t tell me you didn’t find her attractive.”  
Reaching and taking her hands in his, Jean-Luc looked into Beverly’s eyes with nothing but love. “Beverly, there’s a huge difference between attractive and beautiful. Women like O’Donnell are a dime-a-dozen. I’ve seen my fair share of them over the years and I can tell you that they’re mostly shallow vessels. Outwardly attractive, yes, but empty inside. You, on the other hand are beautiful, inside and out. O’Donnell holds nothing for me., not visually, physically or emotionally.”  
The smile that slowly grew on Beverly’s face matched the gleam in her eyes. “She’s had work done, you know.”  
Jean-Luc’s eyebrow rose. “You can tell just by looking?”  
“Well, no...” Beverly admitted. “To be certain I’d have to scan her, but you can’t tell me a women of her age...and that I can give a fair estimate of...can look like she does without the judicious use of some surgical help.”  
“More’s the pity then.” Remarked Jean-Luc.  
“Why?”  
“Because she’s forever in pursuit of the unattainable and has to rely on fakery to try and find it.”  
“Hmph!” Beverly grunted softly. “I doubt she really knows what she wants...long-term, I mean. Although her short-term goal is obvious.” Beverly’s smile was warm, but her eyes were troubled. Jean-Luc gently took her into his arms and embraced her.  
“Forget O’Donnell, Beverly. If she wants to go through her life in a never-ending quest for fulfilment, sobeit. That’s her problem, not ours.”  
They stood communing for a while before Beverly sighed and lifted her head.  
“Okay, but we can’t stay in our suite for eight days, Jean-Luc. I’m not going to hide from that woman.”  
“Nor should you...or me. Tell you what. If she makes any further unwanted...advances, I’ll make it patently clear, in public if necessary, that it’s unwanted and unacceptable.”  
“Deal. Now how about some food? I’m starving.”  
Jean-Luc’s grin was wry. With one eyebrow raised he asked rhetorically, “Room service?”  
Beverly just laughed.

 

Happily over the next two days the couple had only encountered captain O’Donnell once more. It’d been in the main dining room and Jean-Luc had been so cold the woman had quickly got the message and left them alone.  
Having enjoyed a sumptuous lunch, Jean-Luc and Beverly had retired to their cabin, napped and made love. Jean-Luc was quickly discovering that as Beverly’s pregnancy progressed, so her libido increased, which was ironic considering what they’d gone through to get pregnant in the first place. Still, he had no complaints.   
She seemed to sleep longer and deeper afterwards too. Jean-Luc slept well after sex, but not so much during the day, so when he woke after only an hour to find Beverly still deeply asleep he decided to make use the luxurious bathroom. Having stripped, he caught sight of his naked body in the full-length mirror and paused, studying himself critically. His eyes settled on his stomach, one hand coming up to press the firm flesh lightly.  
“You, Picard, could do to lose a kilo or two, me thinks.” He twisted sideways and frowned at his waist. “Yes, definitely. More exercise and healthier food.”  
With that thought in mind, he gave up on the idea of a shower and dressed instead in swimming shorts, sweat pants, T-shirt and sandals. He left quietly, his destination, the ship’s gym.  
He had swum fifty laps of the pool and, still clad in just his shorts was working out with the weights when he sensed he was being watched. Unfortunately he had a fair idea who it was. Her perfume, surprisingly subtle for one so obvious reached him before she did.  
“My, my, Mr. Picard, you are a fine specimen, aren’t you.”  
Not looking at the woman, Jean-Luc said flatly, “I would’ve thought you’d got the message by now, Captain. I would prefer if you left me alone.”  
Her soft chuckle was sultry. “But you are alone, Jean-Luc.”  
He placed the weights back in their rack and bent to scoop up his towel. Still not making eye contact, Jean-Luc made his way back to the pool area where he’d left a super-absorbent cloth. He was wiping the sweat off his head when he felt her finger trail down his spine. In one smooth, graceful movement, Jean-Luc turned, gripped O’Donnell’s wrist and pulled her forwards sharply, overbalancing her. She teetered at the pool edge, windmilling her arms while trying to keep purchase with her moderately high-heeled shoes, but it was a hopeless gesture. She fell into the water as if in slow motion and came up spluttering and cursing, dragging her sodden hair from her face. Jean-Luc hunkered down and said quietly. “That was your last warning, Captain. Leave me and my partner alone.”  
He straightened, ignoring the shocked looks from the other gym users. Having gone to the locker room, he quickly showered, dressed and was back in his suite in fifteen minutes. Beverly was still fast asleep.  
For the rest of their journey they had the run of the ship and didn’t spot O’Donnell once. She didn’t even come to the transporter room to see them off, as protocol demanded, when they reached Marena.

 

Meredith’s ship was in orbit, not around Marena itself, but one of its three moons. Well hidden from prying sensors, Meredith had waited, still unaware of how Jean-Luc and her beloved Beverly were to arrive. All she did know was when they would arrive. Through her intracranial portal she was connected to the planet’s intraweb, monitoring every resort, hotel and lodging. She felt sure there was no way they could find accommodation without her finding out where.  
On the day they were due to arrive five ships entered orbit of the planet at different times to beam down passengers. In her demented state, Meredith didn’t think to check the ships’ transporter logs. She merely logged the identity of each ship and waited, expecting at any time to find the booking she sought.  
The arrival of the Southern Cross was no more interesting to her than the preceding ships. Yes, it was by far the biggest and most luxurious, but that in itself was enough for Meredith to discount it. Her Beverly would never be so blatantly obvious as to travel in such a prominent and opulent pleasure ship. No, her Beverly would choose something subtle and understated...tasteful. Yes, that’s what she should be watching for. Something small and unobtrusive. Then a sudden and very unsettling thought intervened. “But what about that fucker, Picard? He’d want to show off, openly display his trophy! Oh, God, my poor Beverly...to be made such a spectacle of!”  
Concentrating fiercely, Meredith trawled through the intraweb, but still nothing came up. Abruptly standing, the mad woman shrieked, “Where are you, Beverly? Where are you going?”  
She was shaking with rage as the Southern Cross left orbit and the system before making the leisurely jump to warp.

 

Because they rematerialised outdoors and not in the lobby or interior of any building, Jean-Luc and Beverly had taken the precaution of dressing appropriately. Bundled up in thick insulated under clothes and padded and also insulated outerwear, Jean-Luc cast a look of forbearance as Beverly once again failed to contain a giggle when her eyes drifted up to his head covering. He sighed expansively, a cloud of light grey condensed air surrounding his face.  
“It’s just a hat, Beverly.”  
“Oh...but it’s so cute!” Beverly’s gloved hands rose to stroke the side-flaps. “The peak really sets it off. All it needs is a pompom and you’d look like some kind of...I don’t know...elf?”  
He sighed again and turned, squinting to see in the moderately heavy snowfall. “Over there, if I’m not mistaken.”  
As they trudged through the pristine knee-deep snow, avoiding the cleared and groomed pathways, Beverly asked,  
“So how do you know him?”  
“Actually, I’ve known Liam since my Academy days.”  
Still digging and enjoying the game, Beverly grinned, the expression hidden by the soft, thick scarf she’d wrapped around her lower face. Jean-Luc had been cryptic about the details of their holiday since Beverly had made her choice. Now that they’d arrived he was beginning, albeit piece-meal to come up with information.  
“So he’s a fellow officer. A Captain? Or higher? Admiral maybe?”  
Jean-Luc’s smile was knowing. He was enjoying the game as much as Beverly was.  
“He’s not in Starfleet any more, hasn’t been for years.”  
Linking her arm with his, Beverly chewed her lower lip. “Okay, but you’ve stayed friends. In regular contact?”  
“Not regular, no, but in contact, yes. Over all these years, Liam and I have stayed in contact.”  
The occasional snow-laden tree released quantities of snow in clumps, falling with a soft muted thump as they passed. “Does he know about us?” She placed a hand over her well-padded belly. “The baby?”  
“Yes and yes.”  
“So, he’d be invited to the wedding then.”  
Just as Beverly had spoken they’d reached their destination. Out of the white swirl of falling snow a modest building appeared. It was clear of snow, the shimmering of a force field providing the explanation. They came to a halt beside a squat bollard, the top gently glowing with subdued blue light. Jean-Luc didn’t look at his partner as he said quietly,  
“There’s going to be a wedding?”  
“I’m thinking about it, although that’d mean you’d have to be willing.”  
They stood in silence for a few moments before Beverly said softly, “Are you, Jean-Luc?” He heard the hesitation and underlying fear in that one seemingly innocuous question. Turning to face her he said quietly,   
“Are you proposing, Beverly?”  
“I’m not sure, Jean-Luc, but I do know I’m thinking about it. However, you haven’t answered my question. Would you be willing?”  
His smile was a tender one. “Yes, Beverly, yes I would.”  
He couldn’t see the relieved and joyous grin on Beverly’s face but he did see her eyes dancing and he knew what expression she’d be wearing.  
“Well, that’s good to know. It’s always nice to have something pleasant to think about, isn’t it.”  
“Hmm.”  
“So, do you know the code?”  
“Indeed I do.”  
At the pressing of a button, a panel slid back giving access to an alpha-numeric pad. Jean-Luc inputted the correct code and the large double doors of the front of the building swung open. As they entered, Beverly unwound the scarf, her eyes wide. She whistled softly.  
“Wow! Now that is some flitter!”  
“Top-of-the-range, I believe.” Remarked Jean-Luc.  
“Well that means he’s either very wealthy, which puts him as living outside the Federation or he’s so important he carries enough clout to have the use of one of these.” She gestured to the softly gleaning craft.  
“Let’s just say he carries clout and leave it at that.”  
Catching Beverly’s look of refusal at being stymied, Jean-Luc sighed and added, “For now.”  
Mollified, but only a little, she watched as Jean-Luc entered another code and smiled as the flitter’s doors popped open and the reactor powered up. Once inside and with the doors sealed, Beverly nodded her appreciation. “It’s warm in here.”  
Jean-Luc smiled enigmatically. “Liam is very thorough and no matter what he does it’s always done thoughtfully and to the best of his ability. The flitter and our eventual destination have been on a warming cycle for the last 24 hours.”  
“You’re enjoying this way too much, Jean-Luc. I’ll get it out of you, all of it, you know that.”  
He chuckled and passed his hand over the console, bringing it to life. “Yes, Beverly, I’m aware of that, in fact I’m looking forward to it. Your...interrogation methods are always...delightful.”  
Before Beverly could respond, Jean-Luc said quietly, “Computer. Home.”

 

The falling snow, which had become more pronounced didn’t faze the flitter. With state-of-the-art technology it had no problem navigating through the, at first sparse covering of bush, then, when the forest thickened, it rose above and went unerringly across mountains, down into valleys following rivers and canyons at high speed. Three and a half hours later it glided into the forecourt of a modestly substantial home set in a shallow caldera, mountains rising on three sides behind and, down a bare slope, a river in front.   
Jean-Luc beamed their luggage into the house and exited the craft, going to Beverly’s side to assist her. Once empty, the flitter rose and silently parked itself in the open garage. Having settled to the floor and powered down, the garage doors closed. There was no force field over the home, snow covered all the outer surfaces thickly, but the forecourt was clear, although it was achingly cold and still snowing heavily.  
Going through the same procedure of inputting a code, the front door clicked, allowing a very curious and excited Beverly to slide off one glove and grip the old-fashioned handle. She pulled it down and gently pushed. The door obediently swung inwards and warm air sighed out.  
“Oh, Jean-Luc!” was all she said as she stepped inside boldly. Jean-Luc kept his amusement to himself; he’d been here before and busied himself in taking off his outer wear, specifically the damned hat.  
Even though they’d been in comfortable warmth for some hours in the flitter, the short stay outside had reminded them of just how cold it was. Jean-Luc quickly felt far too hot inside, even once he’d taken off his protective clothing, so, with a slightly sly grin, he divested himself of his thick shirt, trousers, socks, shoes and boots, leaving him in nothing but his light grey briefs. Beverly had been exploring, poking her head in every room, making comments to herself, the sound of her voice carrying easily to the listening man and by the time she rejoined Jean-Luc, who was now in the kitchen, she too had stripped off to her underwear. When they saw each other they both laughed.  
Sashaying up to her lover, Beverly grinned saucily. “Well, as it seems we’re mostly there anyway, why don’t we take advantage of our...unclothed...state and go try the master bed.”  
Jean-Luc surprised and delighted Beverly by scooping her up into his arms. He grunted and yes, he staggered a little, but he managed to carry her through the home and into the master bedroom.  
Just over an hour later, after a great deal of laughter and passion they lay naked, spent and content. Jean-Luc was on his back, spread eagled; Beverly sprawled across his midriff at right angles.  
They’d been silent for some time, just enjoying the afterglow. That was until Jean-Luc said softly, “Beverly...do you ever think about Meredith Bower?”  
There was a hint of wariness and unease in her voice as she replied, “Not if I don’t have to, no.”  
The tacit warning to drop the subject was heard, but Jean-Luc needed to ask something that had been dogging his thoughts of late.  
“This may sound disingenuous, but do you think she’s insane?”  
There was a sightly tense silence before Beverly said tightly, “If she’s not insane, her actions are. If she’s something other than insane, it’s a distinction without a difference.”  
“So you think perhaps she’s killed again?”  
“Probably.”  
“I just wish I could understand.”  
Sitting up and dragging her fingers through her hair, Beverly frowned down at her lover. “There is nothing to understand, Jean-Luc. Meredith Bower is a mentally disturbed individual who I doubt has any hope of ever being...‘cured’. She’s a force of nature, Jean-Luc, beyond comprehension by the likes of you and me and you know what? I’m glad! I’d prefer our minds weren’t sullied by even thinking about her.”  
“Still,” sighed Jean-Luc. “There must’ve been something...something in her past, perhaps...”  
“Tell that to her victims.” Beverly spat.  
Jean-Luc sat up, and moved to face her. They were both cross-legged. “It’s not like you to be so uncaring, Beverly.”  
Relenting, Beverly sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, that’s a fair comment. I just can’t separate the sick, disturbed woman with the same person who nearly killed you, Jean-Luc. Not very caring, certainly nothing near upholding the Hippocratic Oath, but when I had to kiss her...” Beverly shuddered at the memory. “...if that d’ktahg hadn’t been in her hand but in mine, I can’t guarantee I wouldn’t’ve used it to slit her damned throat. And...” Beverly raised her finger. “Six more, and who knows how many more lives would’ve been spared.”  
Jean-Luc’s expression was one of shock. He’d seen Beverly’s protective side before but he’d never heard her utter something so overtly aggressive. But he didn’t get the chance to respond, because Beverly pushed him backwards and straddled him, placing two fingers over his parted lips. “No! No more talk about that damned woman! Make love with me, Jean-Luc, blow her out of our minds with our shared ecstasy.”  
Jean-Luc took her fingers into his mouth and sucked them provocatively. Beverly’s eyes drifted closed as she felt him begin to harden. “Oh...yes...”  
Later they slept, soundly and for what remained of the day and right through the night.

 

Night was falling on the populated region of Marena and Meredith knew no more ships were scheduled to arrive until the following day. In a fit of unhinged fury, she wrenched out the cable, ignoring the shard of pain and the accompanying dribble of blood from the portal to stalk around the interior of her craft, kicking and shrieking in demented rage.  
It was only when she spotted the bright line of her own blood as it made its way over her shoulder that she stopped and snarled, “Shit! Now I’m going to have to run a diagnostic! Fuck!”  
Plonking down into her seat, she used more caution in re-situating the end of the cable into the portal. She winced in pain and closed her eyes. “Instigate diagnostic. Run repair protocol.”  
Her head craned back so far her mouth opened wide and exposed the rings of cartilage in her toughened, elongated throat. Her body stiffened and she both defecated and urinated.  
In all, it took just on two hours before the procedure was complete. In her mind she heard, “Diagnostic and repair complete. Recommend reboot.”  
Knowing she had the time, Meredith rose unsteadily from her seat, totally ignoring the putrid mess and lay on the deck. She composed herself and thought calmly, “Commence reboot.”  
It was some time after dawn that Meredith woke. At first she simply lay still, waiting while her conscious mind reawakened. It happened slowly and over forty-five minutes Meredith became aware of herself. Once again in control, she disconnected and rose without so much as a tremor and set about cleaning her craft. She didn’t stop at the mess she’d caused, but replicated the necessary tools and products to give the entire interior an old-fashioned scrubbing. Only when she was satisfied the inside was pristine and gleaming did she stop. She then showered and spent almost two calming, sensuous hours rubbing in her creams.  
Now, feeling relaxed and in control, she sat naked and glowing at her monitor and re-connected the cable.  
“All right. I must look at this in another way. You were scheduled to arrive yesterday, my lovely Beverly. Somehow you did and somehow I missed you. So...if you’re not in one of the resorts or hotels and not in one of the outer lodgings, that could mean you’ve found something private that doesn’t require logging in....or...” A very unpleasant smile appeared and Meredith’s unnaturally bright blue eyes gleamed. “Oh...how could I have missed that? Me!” She laughed as if it was so preposterous it was beyond consideration. “Ah...my Beverly. My love for you has clouded my superior thinking! Let me see. How many people...human people and of what gender beamed down and where did they go?”  
Within seconds the information appeared. “Everyone accounted for except a human male and a human female...travelling together! Ah hah! I have you, my lovely. You and that fucking lump of shit, Picard! Now then, if you’re not within the populated areas, where did you go and how did you get there?”  
The flight plan of the flitter came up, but Meredith scowled at the encryption imbedded in the information. “What the fuck! That’s illegal! They have to file a flight plan on Marena!”  
She sat forward, using a physical closeness to the monitor to accentuate the level of concentration she was using. But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t ‘crack’ the encryption. Defeated, for the moment at least, Meredith sat back and shouted, “You think you can hide her from me, Picard? I’ll slice your cock off slowly and shove it down your fucking throat! How dare you try to keep her from me? She pines for me...she yearns for me! Every time you stick your disgusting cock in her she wants to vomit! She thinks of me while you rape her, just to stay sane...every time you fucking bastard!”

 

A sleepy Jean-Luc cracked open one eye and frowned at the very gentle beeping sound coming from somewhere near the left side of the bed. The covers, sheets, pillows, everything was strewn haphazardly around, Jean-Luc and Beverly only covered with enough bedclothes to ward off the slight chill of night. Apparently the owner preferred to lower the internal temperature of the house at night.  
Careful not to disturb the gently snoring Beverly, Jean-Luc eased himself out of the tangle of sheets and covers and began to rummage through the articles on the floor. He vaguely recalled everything on the bedside table being swept off at one stage and the memory made him smile. “Ah, yes.” He grinned. “The interrogation.” The beeping was getting louder, encouraging Jean-Luc to keep looking. Eventually he found the source. It was a small round device, hidden under the bed where, no doubt, it’d landed having been knocked or swept off the top of the bedside table.   
He retrieved it and slowly turned it over in his hand, while knuckling his eye with the other. Finding a small recessed button, he pressed it and the device opened up, very much like a slowly blooming flower. A small crystal-clear screen activated and a message appeared. “Attention. Unauthorised attempt to access encrypted information. Level five security initiated.”  
Keeping his voice soft, Jean-Luc asked, “Location of attempted access?”  
“A vessel. Location is, as yet, unknown. However, the vessel is close, within the Marena system.”  
“Method used to attempt access?”  
“Unknown, but highly invasive.”  
“Can you maintain security lock-out?”  
“Unknown. Level five is the highest level this system is set for. Suggest contact owner. Awaiting instructions.”  
“Keep trying to block access, but if access is gained, inform me at once. And send information and request for contact with owner. Code, kilo, pi, one eight, Canis Majoris.”  
“Acknowledged.”  
The beeping had ceased and the device closed, once again resembling a small, dull metal ball. Looking around at the carnage of their bed, Jean-Luc felt guilty putting the device on the bare tabletop, but he had little choice. Rather than wake Beverly, he did his best to restore some order to the chaos of their bed and settled bedside her.  
“Well now,” he mused sourly. “Who could be wishing to attempt to circumvent Liam’s security? What has he been up to now, I wonder?”  
It never occurred to him that it wasn’t Liam that was in mortal danger, but he himself.

 

Commodore (Ret.) Liam Dogovich scowled darkly as he read the highly encrypted message that appeared on his softly glowing screen. He sat back, chewing at the fingernail of his right little finger. It was a longstanding habit, left over from one of his experiences of being tortured. Once all his fingernails had regrown, they were misshapen and weak. It wasn’t until he’d finally returned to Federation space that he’d been able to have them treated. And yet, even though all his fingernails were now perfectly normal, he simply couldn’t get the image of that one nail on his little finger out of his mind, and so, whenever stressed or in deep thought, his right hand went automatically to his mouth where his little fingernail was chewed. How badly depended on the problem. Sometimes until it bled.  
As his incisors took hold and tore the remnant of nail, he never felt the accompanying slice of pain it caused, nor did he taste the blood that oozed from the freshly exposed flesh under the nail.  
“Who the hell are you and how the hell did you manage to get in this far?”  
The information he’d read was stunning and very alarming, something he’d assumed to be impossible, but, as his life’s experiences had taught him (and quite painfully at times) nothing was impossible. If someone wanted something badly enough, they’d find a way to get it. The question was...who was the target. Him or his old friend and comrade, Jean-Luc Picard?”  
It had been over a year since he’d last visited Marena and he’d had no plans to go there any time soon. He had luxury homes in many places, in fact his Marena home was only used when the whim took him, he wasn’t really all that keen on the perpetually cold climate. He shuddered involuntarily. “All that bloody snow!”  
A native of Australia, he’d grown up in the harsh, hot, dry interior and somehow he never quite felt comfortable unless he was hot. He chuckled softly, wondering what Jean-Luc and his lovely partner had made of the temperature he’d set for the house. He may have liked to be hot, but for sleeping, he conversely wanted cold.  
The small, well-appointed office he occupied was overly warm. It suited him of course, and as he had no staff or visitors, he thought nothing of it, in fact dressed as he was in a simple pair of shorts and nothing else, he felt both comfortable and comforted.  
“Earth.” He sighed. “So complex. I don’t know why I couldn’t have my office at home.” He grimaced and shook his head. “London! Even with the weather control grids this place is too bloody cold for my liking.”  
Shaking off these extraneous thoughts, he redirected himself to the mystery he now faced. A very dangerous mystery. Though ‘retired’ from Starfleet, he was still active and ‘allied’, acting as a freelance ‘fixer’ operating in situations where it wasn’t quite politic to have a Starfleet officer in the mix, but not so deeply clandestine as section 31 or as distasteful. Being non-aligned, at least that’s how he presented himself, he could more often than not unravel diplomatic knots or circumvent brewing unrest without Starfleet or the Federation Council having to show their hands. It was an elegant solution as he was an honest man, a man with integrity and with the Federation’s best interests at heart.   
Unfortunately, there were those who saw him as a major problem. A man who wielded the kind of power he did inevitably gained enemies, thus he was afforded the state-of-the-art technology in the form of security from his Federation employers. That someone had enough information to not only find his Marena home, but to attempt to gain access to his private flitter’s computer...He sighed again, the same question rolling over and over in his mind. “Who are they after? You, Jean-Luc, or me? And who the hell is it? An individual, a group or a government?”  
As Jean-Luc had intimated, then confessed under her ‘interrogation’, Liam and he had been close friends for years. Their contacts had been deliberately sporadic...it was a mutually agreed strategy for each other’s protection. Jean-Luc knew what Liam did just as Liam knew Jean-Luc’s job put him at the pointy end too. “Enemies.” He sighed. “Like ticks on a razorback. They gather, the longer you live, the more you have.”  
He leaned forward slightly and said around his mangled fingernail, “Computer, increase security to level seven at my Marena home. Uplink with home’s system and open a channel using level seven protocols.”  
He sat back and took his little finger out of his mouth only long enough to take several long draughts of frosty-cold beer. The ring of water left by the large wet glass on his desktop went unnoticed. There would soon be many more. His one vice was Australian beer, drunk as tradition demanded, so cold it made his head ache, but in his native country, so welcome in the oppressive heat of the outback.  
His instruction to the computer had initiated a subspace burst, neatly bypassing the ‘official’ relays and beacons. What would have normally taken over three days to reach its destination, took a mere eighteen minutes. He could tell, as soon as he heard Jean-Luc’s voice that man had been asleep.  
“Liam?” Jean-Luc’s roughly voiced question was laced with caution.  
The man sat back and put down his glass. He rarely allowed visual communication, especially dressed as he was now, but Jean-Luc had seen all the scars, at least what was left after the doctors at SFM had finished. But even their expertise couldn’t totally eradicate scars of injuries gained by the use of corrosive chemicals. They changed the skin in a way that made it impossible to completely restore. He’d had the option of a complete dermal replacement, but he opted out. Not a vain man, he wore his disfigurements with a modicum of pride. Some, he knew, like his friend, Jean-Luc, wore their scars inside. As far as Liam was concerned, he felt he had the better part of that particular ghoul. Better to see the evidence and know it than be haunted by unseen demons.   
“Computer. Visual.”  
He grinned at Jean-Luc’s bleary look and the grin turned into a leer as he peered past him to see Beverly turn over. He couldn’t see her head but one creamy breast was exposed. Seeing the well-known look on his friend’s face, Jean-Luc quickly covered his lover and shook off the last remnants of sleep.  
“I see you’re still up to it, Jean-Luc.” Liam grinned wolfishly.  
The captain sighed and gave Liam a look of frank reproach. “It’s Beverly, Liam.”  
The man’s face rearranged itself into something resembling apologetic, but his dark grey eyes still danced. “Yeah, I know, but Jesus, Jean-Luc...nice tits.”  
“Liam.” The warning note to Jean-Luc’s soft, deep voice banished all frivolity. Holding up his hand, Liam inclined his head.  
“We have a problem, Jean-Luc.”  
“What kind and from whom?”  
“I don’t know who, but the problem is a big one. As you know, a vessel, hiding somewhere within the Marena system has done a damned fine job of accessing info they have no right to have and to make matters worse, I can’t find out...at least not yet...how they’ve got in as far as they have.”  
Jean-Luc was sitting on the side of the bed, naked, but with a corner of a sheet drawn across his lap. His fingers went to rub his lower lip as Liam began to once again gnaw at his little fingernail.  
“So...is it me or you?”  
Liam withdrew his finger and made a fist. “I don’t know! Either one of us could attract this kind of attention. We both know we have some powerful enemies.”  
“True.” Agreed Jean-Luc. “Have you been active lately? Doing anything particularly annoying?”  
“Not enough for this kind of attention, at least I don’t think so. But you know the drill, Jean-Luc. I can’t elaborate on my work any more than you can.”  
“I know, but I can tell you we’ve been quiet for a while now. The very fact I’m able to take this month-long leave speaks to that.”  
“Yeah, I thought as much. Well, if neither of us has stood on anyone’s toes recently, then what about the past? Anyone you know that’d hold a grudge long enough to get together the wherewithal to embark on this kind of infiltration attempt?”  
Shaking his head, Jean-Luc’s eyes showed he thought he knew where the culprit lay. Liam held up his hands. “Oh come on! Give me a break! If any of my enemies wanted to bump me off they’d have done it years ago.”  
“True,” nodded Jean-Luc, “But you said yourself, it’d take time to put together the kind of technology we’re seeing here. Unless...”  
“Unless?”  
“Well we can’t dismiss the chance it may be someone we’re unfamiliar with. Someone...hired?”  
“A mercenary? A group or an individual hired from a species we don’t know about?”  
“Why not? Can you explain what’s happened so far?” Asked Jean-Luc.  
“No, I can’t.” Liam said thoughtfully. “But it still leaves the big question. You or me?”   
“I don’t see that it matters. I have only two choices. Leave or stay.”  
“Well, I’ve upgraded your security to level seven and...”  
“Level seven?” Jean-Luc interrupted incredulously and a little too loudly. Beverly mewed softly and moved closer, her hand sliding across his thigh.   
“Who’re talking to?” she mumbled.  
“Liam. Go back to sleep, my love, I’m sorry I woke you.”  
“‘Kay, as long as you join me when you’re done.”  
“I will, I promise.”  
He waited until she settled again before redirecting his attention back to the small screen held in his hand.  
“Level seven?” he repeated softly. “Liam, I wasn’t aware our security went to level seven! Since when...?”  
The tanned, sinewy man held up one hand. “Now you know I can’t tell you about that.”  
By the glower on Jean-Luc’s face, Liam knew he owed his friend. Payment, however, would have to wait. “All you need to know is that level seven security protocols are now in effect and that my entire property, all two hundred hectares including the house are covered. So you can ski, hunt, fish, walk....” he leered again “...or indulge in some more horizontal dancing. As long as you stay within the boundaries of my property, you’ll be safe.”  
Giving the information some long thought, Jean-Luc eventually sighed. “Very well, we’ll stay.” He stared intently at his old friend’s eyes. “You’ll keep me updated.”  
“You know I will, and just as you know I’ll keep looking. I’m just as ‘curious’ as you to know who’s behind this, Jean-Luc, and put a stop to it.”  
“Agreed. Thank you, Liam.”  
“No worries, mate...but on another note...and this is only a suggestion...don’t you think Liam is a beaut name for a boy?”  
Shaking his head, Jean-Luc couldn’t contain a soft snort. “If we have a son and we named him Liam and he turned out like you....Beverly wouldn’t hesitate in having me castrated!”  
“Ha!” the man barked. “Oh, well, it was worth a try. Dogovich out.”  
Jean-Luc did as Beverly asked and stretched out beside her. She stirred and her hand found his penis, but she didn’t really wake. It took a while, but Jean-Luc finally slipped back to sleep, his penis still gently held in Beverly’s warm hand.

 

It had taken over seventeen hours of intense concentration, breaking through level after level of security before Meredith finally came up to level seven. She’d thought having broken through the encryption of level five that her task was complete. She screeched in frustrated fury when she was confronted by yet another level, this one even more complicated and convoluted. And when she’d eventually conquered that one, another took its place.   
But her determination had taken over her rage. So subsumed by her tenacious doggedness was she, she neither ate, drank, nor bothered to leave her computer interface to relieve herself of her bodily waste. The reeking mess was smeared on her backside and thighs and lay on the seat of her chair and puddled on the deck beneath.  
When the encryption of level seven finally gave up its stranglehold of its systems, she sat back in her seat and had only enough strength to carefully disconnect before collapsing sideways off her seat and fall unconscious to the deck. It would be many hours before she recovered either her mental power or her physical strength. Such was the toll her intense concentration had taken.

It was late in the afternoon and the two well-clad people were using their legs as snow ploughs to push their way through knee-deep snow. It was hard going as they were making their way up a fairly steep incline. Both superbly fit individuals, they were still somewhat out of breath as Jean-Luc stopped and caught Beverly’s elbow.   
“Let’s rest a minute.” He said in a cloud of greyish-white steam that escaped from his scarf that covered his lower face. His cap, much to Beverly’s continued amusement kept the upper portions of his head and his ears warm.  
Normally Beverly would’ve said something cheeky, but she was too winded to bother. She knew her pregnancy was taking some of her strength and it annoyed her a little. That annoyance was compounded because she was aware Jean-Luc knew it too and if there was one thing she detested it was being mollycoddled. For any reason.  
Still, the evidence was there. Yes, Jean-Luc had stopped to get his breath too, but he recovered a hell of a lot quicker than she did. It only served to rub her nose in it...or that’s how it felt to her, so her inevitable arch remark came as no surprise to either of them.  
“I don’t know why we had to go down to the damned stream in the first place! Like everything else, it was frozen! It’s not as if we’d see a lovely, happy little mountain stream, gurgling and skipping along.”  
Her sarcasm was lost on Jean-Luc and she knew it, but she just couldn’t help herself. And his calm, soft reply only made her even more annoyed.  
“You said the frozen waterfall was gorgeous.”  
“Yes I did, but that was before we had to make the damned climb back up the bloody mountain!”  
“Beverly,” Jean-Luc said mildly. “You know creeks only exist at the bottom of valleys and, may I remind you, it was your idea to descend to see said creek and this...” he waved his gloved hand upwards towards the crest, just visible through the lightly falling snow. “Is not a mountain, but merely a largish hill. Now, are you recovered enough to continue?”  
“I hate it when you do that!” spat the incensed doctor.  
“Do what?” said Jean-Luc with seemingly endless patience.  
“Go all Vulcan on me.”  
She could only see his eyes, but the puzzlement was plain. She sighed, waving an irritated hand at the cloud of condensed air it caused. “Logic, Jean-Luc! That and using my own words against me!”  
He chuckled softly and wrapped a padded arm around her waist. “Come on, Beverly. The longer we stay here, the longer it’ll be before we can get back indoors. I don’t know about you, but I’m beginning to feel the cold, especially my feet.”  
She bumped him with her shoulder and huffed. “I suppose a piggyback is out of the question?”  
He seemed to give it some thought before shaking his head, and by the playful twinkle in his eyes, Beverly knew he was highly amused.  
“Ah...although I can think of nothing I’d rather do more, unless you have a full medical facility to repair the inevitable physical damage such an action would invariably inflict upon me, then alas, no, my dear Beverly. I cannot piggyback you.”  
“Hmph!” snorted Beverly. “Some knight-in-shining-armour you turned out to be!”  
“We all have to accept our limitations, Beverly. However, think of it this way. The energy I preserve by not piggybacking you can and will be put to far more...pleasurable pursuits later...should you so wish.”  
He watched in delight as her eyes, which were all he could see of her face, darkened and became smoky. Enough for him to say hastily, holding up both hands, “Not here, Beverly. There are some parts of my anatomy I do NOT wish to fall victim to frost bite.”  
She knew he was right, of course, but she was rapidly becoming aroused and she’d always loved a challenge. “Chicken. Where’s your sense of adventure?”  
“Back at the house, mon amour in that lovely big bed. Now come on, it really is getting colder and the snow is falling heavier.”  
“Yeah, well you just remember it was your idea and that you chickened out!”  
The jousting over and happily ending in a draw, Jean-Luc helped Beverly as they made their laborious way back to the crest, across the sparsely wooded plateau and out into the open area in which the house stood.   
They entered gratefully, immediately peeling the layers of clothing off. Jean-Luc was easing his boots off when he heard the gentle chiming of the message system. Dressed only in his thermal underwear long pants he went into the study and activated the comm. unit. What he saw made him softly swear. “Oh, merde!”  
The message read, “Contact me ASAP. Level seven security protocols of the flitter have been breached. Liam.”  
Jean-Luc instructed the computer to make the connection and waited. Beverly soon joined him, sitting on the arm of his chair as she handed him a mug of warmed mead.  
“What’s up?” she asked, knowing by the tense set of his shoulders and the telltale deep crease between his eyebrows that something was amiss.  
He was loath to worry her, but if they were in imminent danger, she had a right to know. He turned to her and sighed. “The security system of the flitter’s been breached.”  
“Meaning what?” said an obviously confused Beverly. “Has someone tried to steal it? Make it fly remotely to some unknown destination?”  
“No.” Jean-Luc said softly. “It’s a little more serious than that, my love. The flitter, indeed this entire home and all the surrounding property is under a level...seven...security protocol.”   
“There’s no such thing as a level seven protocol...is there?”  
“Yes, there is, but only a very select few know about it. So I don’t have to remind you...”  
She held up her hand. “My lips are sealed. But what has this to do with us? How does the flitter’s security being breached affect us?”  
“I’m not sure. The thing is, Beverly, we don’t know...”  
He got no further. “Who’s ‘we’?”  
“Liam and me. We don’t know what’s going on. Whether or not one of us is a target and if so which one. Liam or me?”  
“So what’re you doing about it?”  
Jean-Luc gestured to the monitor. “I’m waiting to speak to Liam.”  
“Oh.” Said Beverly, her eyebrows raised. “So he’s not far away then?”  
Jean-Luc took a deep breath and swallowed. “Um...actually he’s on Earth.”  
“Well what’re you doing waiting for him? It’ll take days to...” she trickled to a halt and pulled her lips to one side. “He has access to technology us mere plebs don’t know about, doesn’t he.”  
Before Jean-Luc even tried to reply, Beverly shook her head and held up her hand again.  
“No! Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. Just tell me how long you’re going to wait?”  
“About another 15 minutes.”  
“Fifteen minutes! Jesus!” She stood and swallowed the rest of the small amount of mead she’d allowed herself. “Okay, while you wait, I’m going down to the basement. There has to be a way to alter the temperature of this house. The damned computer won’t do it, at least not by vocal command and I can’t find a climate control pad anywhere. Maybe there’s a master control downstairs.”  
Jean-Luc took her hand and kissed it. “Very well and once I’ve concluded the ‘business’ side of my call, I’ll ask Liam about how to alter the temperature, but be warned. He likes a very warm ambient temperature; I doubt he’ll allow it to be altered.”  
As she neared the door, Beverly turned to say cheekily, “What is he? Some kind of rare, hothouse orchid?”  
“No.” Called Jean-Luc to her retreating back. “He’s no orchid, hothouse or otherwise, but he is a rarity.”  
“Whatever.” Came the ever diminishing reply. Jean-Luc’s smile faded as the ramifications of the security breach became evident. He and Liam had a lot to discuss.

 

The deep frown on Jean-Luc’s face was becoming a permanent feature as the discussion continued. The more he heard, the more alarmed he became.  
“But, Liam...surely a level seven security protocol shouldn’t’ve been able to have been...?”  
Holding up both hands, the man shook his head. “I know! And I agree with you, but that’s not the point! It’s happened, Jean-Luc. What we have to do now is deal with it. So far I’ve been able to ascertain a craft emitting no warp signature entered the Marena system about four days ago. My bet is that’s where our friends...or friend...is operating from.”  
Jean-Luc scowled. “If this craft emitted no warp signature, how was it detected?”  
Liam bared his teeth and grimaced. “Can’t go into details, Jean-Luc, you’ll just have to trust me. But I can tell you it was bloody difficult to find the minute trace it did leave. As to where, exactly, this craft is? No idea, all I do know is that it’s close enough for some kind of uplink to the planet’s intraweb.”  
Jean-Luc’s sneer was derisive. “That’s not exactly difficult, Liam. Any ship’s computer can do that. God, a simple voice command would suffice and at some considerable distance.”  
“Yes,” Liam said patiently, “But you’re forgetting whoever this is used the interface to crack ALL the levels to get to and crack level seven. Now are you going to tell me a normal ship’s computer can do that?”  
“No.” Admitted Jean-Luc. “In fact, from the little you’ve told me, I’d’ve thought it’d require an AI.”  
Liam’s dark grey eyes narrowed, accentuating the crow’s feet on his deeply lined, tanned face. “I’m smelling a rat, Jean-Luc. Why are you bringing the possibility of an AI into the mix?”  
“Because, old friend,” Jean-Luc’s tone was sarcastic. “You’ve not told me everything...and I understand that, but I’m no fool. I’m aware, at least fairly well-informed of the level of technology the Federation’s been dabbling in and even though I had no idea that a level seven encryption or security protocol existed, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t expecting it to emerge some day.” He shrugged. “It’s a natural progression, after all. We have to keep in front, lagging behind in any kind of technology; even benign technology such as medical science makes us vulnerable. Now taking all that into effect, I find your inability to either find the perpetrators or discover how they managed to get in right through the gate....now that tells me we’re dealing with something a little out of our league. And from what I know of alien technology, at least those we know of, I can’t think of any species, friend or foe who could’ve done this. And that, Liam, leaves but one conclusion. If it’s not a living person or persons then it must be an AI.”  
Liam sat back, chewing furiously on his fingernail. Jean-Luc waited patiently, he knew his friend would speak when he was ready and not before. Fortunately the urgency of the situation made for brevity.  
“Okay...let’s say you’re right. To a point.”  
“Meaning?”  
“Have you ever heard of the Fen?”  
Pulling the corners of his mouth down, Jean-Luc shook his head. “No. What is it? A person? A computer system?”  
Liam shrugged and scratched his thinning sun-bleached, gingery-blond short hair. “To be absolutely honest, Jean-Luc, we don’t know. All we do know is that if one has enough latinum...and our sources tell us that means a shit load, you can get to this...Fen.”  
“And?”  
“I don’t know what happens, but if the ‘client’ survives whatever it is that takes place, they’re left with their brain...augmented.”  
“Augmented.” Jean-Luc repeated flatly. “Meaning what, exactly?”  
Liam pounded his fist on the desktop, but he wasn’t directing any of his anger and frustration at Jean-Luc. “We don’t know! All we have is rumours, fifth-hand anecdotes...hearsay. Not one shred of hard evidence...but think about this. If an individual, a person with all the latinum they needed had a grudge and visited the Fen, whatever the hell that is and survive the encounter, wouldn’t you say they might now be in possession of a brain that resembled an AI, only not artificial, but organic?! A walking, talking, living AI with ALL that entails, including the ability to bypass anything we throw up in the way of security.”  
“Merde!”  
“You can say that again. Look, Jean-Luc, we’ve been reliably informed that a particularly nasty but filthy rich Ferengi by the name of Nrug has been effectively rolled. He was tortured in his own home and left destitute and mutilated but alive. He’s in Rog prison...he’ll never leave alive but my point is, someone with an immense amount of nous did this. You don’t walk into a Ferengi’s home and brazenly fuck him up, then rob him blind. He’s mostly off his head now, but he keeps babbling about some woman...a human woman...but from what little coherent spells he has, whoever this woman is...she’s been...changed.”  
“Are you intimating she’s been to this...Fen, you speak of?” asked Jean-Luc with growing dread.  
“Probably, but Nrug’s descriptions seen to suggest this woman has had a LOT of surgical work done. As I understand it she barely resembles a human now. Thing is, along with her unusual appearance, she possessed every scrap of knowledge necessary to enter, torture, mutilate and steal...from the bugger’s own strong room, and you know how the Ferengi value their security...and take the lot! Every single bar of latinum! Then she manipulated things so that he was left with no one to bail him out. He was one of Ferenginar’s wealthiest individuals, more wealthy than the Grand Negus himself. Now how do you think she managed to do all that if not with an augmented brain?”  
By the look on Jean-Luc’s face, Liam knew he’d hit a raw never. “Does that bring someone to mind?”  
“Perhaps.”  
“Well, my advice is for you and Beverly to get out right now. Don’t bother to pack, just get in the flitter and get the hell off the planet.”  
“It’s that urgent?”   
“Jean-Luc...whoever it is has cracked our highest ever security. Now it was only the flitter’s computer, but think!”  
Jean-Luc blinked and paled. “Anything connected to that system...”  
“Exactly! Now when you get in the flitter, do not activate the automated systems. Input your coordinates the old fashioned way and fly the bloody thing like an old aeroplane.” He held up his hand. “And before you ask, yes there is a duplicate system just for this kind of emergency and yes, even though it’s just a flitter, it’s not only space-worthy, she’s capable of ‘special’ speeds and she won’t emit a warp signature.”  
Jean-Luc was on his feet. “And where are we to go?”  
“Obviously this communication system’s probably been compromised, so I won’t say or send the coordinates. Just let me give you a little clue. Remember the hyacintho avian?”  
Jean-Luc’s smile was grim. “Not only do I remember it, I vividly recall the three-day headache afterwards. I’ll see you there in eight days.”  
Liam’s smile was wry. “Actually three would be closer to the mark and I’ll have the cavalry waiting.”  
Jean-Luc gave a curt nod. “Understood. Thank you, Liam.”  
“Don’t thank me, Jean-Luc. I might still be the target. You and Beverly might end up as collateral damage in this by whoever it is that’s perpetrating this...hunt. My first priority is to keep you and your lovely partner safe and sound.”  
“And you?”  
The man winked. “I can look after myself, mate. We’ll have a cold one and a laugh when this is sorted.”  
“Not that damned Australian beer of yours, Liam. A good red, yes, but not that elephant tranquiliser you drink.”  
“Dogovich out, you old bastard, Jean-Luc.”

 

Having failed to find any kind of master control for the home’s computer system, Beverly spent the better part of half of an hour poking about in the basement. It had one of the most well-equipped private gyms she’d ever seen, including a heated pool. She tried out a few of the apparatuses and was dabbling her toes in the water when she heard Jean-Luc’s voice call softly, “Beverly? Where are you?”  
“Over here...by the pool.”  
He reached her in seconds and she knew immediately something was very wrong. She didn’t bother to ask Now was not the time.  
“We must dress and leave straight away. Don’t pack and don’t use any of the computer systems in the house. Dress for outside, we’ll be using the flitter, but I suspect the temperature inside is going to be only barely warm enough to stave off hypothermia.”  
She had a million questions but quelled the urge to ask. Moving with alacrity, they went back upstairs and began to dress.

Meredith hadn’t bothered to clean up the mess, not from the chair and its surrounds or from her own body. On awakening she’d accessed the home’s security and, armed with her new knowledge, easily circumvented it.  
She found the latest communiqué between Jean-Luc and Liam and growled menacingly. “Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere, Picard. You’re going to hand over my beautiful Beverly and then...” she smiled her demented smile. “...the fun begins! But I doubt you’ll enjoy it, you fucker. No, definitely not. We will though. Beverly and I will laugh ourselves sick while you scream and beg! I’ll even make a vid for our later enjoyment and amusement. Ha! It’ll probably be very arousing...”   
As she stared at the monitor, the thin tube connected, she chuckled while she set about orchestrating the capture of her prey. Being so immensely intelligent, she expected no trouble.

 

The first sign that something was terribly wrong was when the flitter doors refused to open. Jean-Luc, not willing to use the craft’s computer, tried the manual release, but the handle, recessed in a circular steel port wouldn’t budge. It was as if it’d been welded in place.   
He tried every access point, even the aft exhaust but to no avail. Swearing softly, he turned to Beverly and said quietly, “It’s no use, I can’t gain access. We’d best go back to the house.”  
Through thickly falling snow and a rising wind they made their way back to the front door only to find the exact same thing. They were locked out.  
Beverly fumbled with her gloved hand to find one of Jean-Luc’s similarly covered hands. “What’s going on, Jean-Luc?”  
“I’m not certain by any means, Beverly, but there’s a chance, a remote one, but a chance nonetheless, that Meredith Bower is after us.”  
“Oh, shit! Why do you think she’s behind this?”  
“Some information from Liam and a healthy dose of gut feeling.”  
“Okay, so what do we do?”  
Jean-Luc looked up, squinting his eyes against the falling snow. “I don’t see the point in trying to find a way into the house. I’ve no doubt it’s locked up tight. I told you Liam was thorough. Seems this time it might’ve backfired.”  
“So that leaves what?” said Beverly with growing alarm and dread. Her question was answered as Jean-Luc turned to look into the wooded area above the incline that led down to the creek.  
“You can’t be serious?”  
“Do you have a better idea? If I’m right, that mad woman’s going to make an appearance very soon and we don’t want to be anywhere near her. If we hide in the countryside...keep on the move, it’ll be that much harder for her to find us and with this amount of falling snow, we’ll leave no tracks.”  
“Have you gone completely mad?” hissed Beverly. “Don’t you think she’ll just use a scanner? Our bio signs will register easily...I mean, God, a thermal detector would make us stand out like beacons in this cold!”  
“Beverly I know this is hard, but if we can stay on the move, avoid her for just three days, help will be sent. Liam is expecting us at the Blue Parrot Cafe in three days. Now he’ll be looking for the flitter and...”  
“The flitter?” interrupted Beverly incredulously. “We were supposed to go through space in that personal land craft? Flitters are not space-worthy, Jean-Luc! They’re not even warp capable.”  
Talking her by the elbow, Jean-Luc said, “Come on, we have to get going. I’ll explain as we walk, but we must hurry!”

 

By the time Meredith had finalised her plans she was tired but elated. Taking only enough time to wipe her soiled body clean and quickly apply her creams, she dressed in a stunningly beautiful, shimmering light blue sheath. She drank almost a litre of water and lifted her head, sighing with deep happiness.   
“Here I come, my Beverly. Your long wait is over.” She raised her wrist and said “Beam me to the house.”  
When she rematerialised outside in the now blizzard-like conditions, she ignored it, walking with long, graceful strides to the front door. She passed her hand over the pad and the click of deactivation made her grin. She opened the door and stepped inside with the same boldness Beverly had shown. “I’m here, my lovely! Come to me! Don’t be afraid, Picard can’t hurt you any more.”  
By the way her voice echoed slightly, Meredith had a very unwanted and rare sinking feeling in her stomach. “Beverly!” she shouted. “There’s no need to hide! I’ve come for you!”  
In the eerie silence, Meredith screamed. “Hiding her from me is only going to make it much worse for you, Picard! Let her go!”  
It was slowly dawning on Meredith that she was alone in the house. Her scream of rage broke two internal glass panels.

 

Although they had been trudging through the slightly less deep snow by the creek for three hours, the blizzard was hampering them. The woods were providing some protection but the going was very difficult and already, even through their insulated boots and thick, thermal socks, the cold was creeping in insidiously.  
At the exact moment Meredith had let forth her primal scream of insane rage, both Jean-Luc and Beverly had come to an abrupt halt, both simultaneously looking back in the general direction of the house. Of course they hadn’t actually heard anything, that would’ve been impossible, but some kind of primitive, subliminal shiver of fear and the unmistakable warning of impending danger hit both of them.   
They looked into each other’s eyes and Beverly said softly, “She’s there, at the house.”  
Jean-Luc nodded and increased his grip of Beverly’s elbow. “Come on. I think I have an idea.”  
Wishing to conserve her energy and knowing she had more than her own life to consider, Beverly didn’t bother to ask any questions. Unless she came up with something useful of her own, it was best to leave the details to Jean-Luc. She sighed and glanced morosely at the accompanying cloud of steam. “We’ll either survive this...or die.” She thought, placing her free hand on her belly. “No way will I allow that mad bitch to have me...or our baby if she kills Jean-Luc. One way or another, we or I will beat her.”  
It was only after about twenty minutes that Beverly realised they were following some fast-fading tracks. She only knew they were animal by the size and number and the scatterings of piles of manure.  
Jean-Luc saw her staring and explained. “Liam mentioned, among other things, that hunting was an option on his property.”  
“Hunting?!” said an outraged Beverly. “How dare he...”  
Jean-Luc shook his head. “No, not that kind of hunting, Beverly, there’s no killing. One can either stalk to take vids or stills....or one can immobilise the target animal with a tranquiliser, have your picture taken with it, then it’s left to recover. The entire process takes about ten minutes. Same thing goes for fishing. Catch and release. The skill is in stalking your target. These creatures are wild and very canny. Believe me, it’s not easy getting close, but my dear doctor, that’s exactly what we’re going to do...if we’re lucky.”  
They continued to follow the deep depressions made by multiple sets of cloven feet. Beverly’s mind was working quickly. “I see. If we can get close enough, even within the periphery of the herd?” Jean-Luc nodded. “We may be able to disguise our bio signatures, at the very least we’d give off no more thermal output than one of these creatures...I’m assuming there’re large?”  
“Uh huh. And unfortunately rather grumpy when disturbed. But there’s another reason for getting close to them. This snow...” he flapped his hand and looked upwards. “Isn’t the same as the snow you’d find in most cold environments on an M class planet. Believe it or not, it contains a high amount of hydrogen. Now that works in our favour in one way and against us in another.”  
“So you have good news and bad.” Beverly’s tone was sardonic.   
“Yes. While the hydrogen present will help mask our bio signatures; that is it’ll make the scanning device confused, it may not be able to discern between human and animal, the downside is was have no water source. We can’t eat the snow, nor can we drink from any watercourse.”  
“Oh, that’s just great!” said an angry Beverly. “So not only are we in danger of hypothermia, but dehydration is a real threat...not to mention the demented murderous virago hunting us! Tell me, Jean-Luc. Are there any more little snippets you’ve left out? Or am I supposed to guess?”  
Jean-Luc took a deep breath and did his best to control his rising anger. “Look I’m doing my best. Unless you have any better ideas...”  
They stood, bent slightly into the hard wind. Beverly’s eyes suddenly brightened. “As a matter of fact I just might.”  
“And that is?” Even with his voice muffled by the scarf wound around his lower face, Beverly heard the appreciation in his tone.  
“Am I right in assuming any water coming from a source not involved with the surface would be potable?”  
“Most probably...but...”  
“Underground, Jean-Luc.”   
He began to shake his head, but Beverly shook his arm. “No! Listen and think! I’m not suggesting we dig for water, I know that’d be contaminated, but if we could find water the rose from underground, like from inside a cave or a thermal spring...”

Jean-Luc thought hard. “Well, it would depend entirely on where the water originated, but I think you’re on to something, Beverly my dear.”  
He couldn’t see the grin on her face, but he did see her lovely blue eyes sparkling. His own eyes narrowed. “And you know what? These creatures have been studied for years. Their physiology is basically mammalian with some understandable adaptations. The thing is; I don’t think they can tolerate the hydrogen quantity in the water. And if that’s so, then they must know where there’s drinkable water.” He squinted and Beverly knew he was thinking hard. If not for the scarf covering his face, she’d no doubt he’d be rubbing his gloved fingers over his lower lip.  
“You know, it explains why they tend to frequent specific areas. They don’t migrate and they don’t have a large range. I bet it’s because of having to stay not far from drinkable water.”  
“So,” Beverly said; her smile in her voice. “We make like the animals.”  
“Indeed.”  
As the couple renewed their dogged tracking of the spore, in the house, Meredith had gone on an insane rampage.

 

The first thing she’d done was rip the clothing from her body, then having picked up and smashed a heavily built, solid wood table, she snatched up one leg of the ruined piece of furniture and began to move from room to room, using it as a club to smash everything she found. Her trusty knife, worn in an elastic band around her long, muscled thigh was used occasionally to slash and stab. Even though in an insane rage she was surprisingly methodical in her destruction.   
It wasn’t until she’d made her way down to the basement that she suddenly paused. Breathing steadily, her inhuman eyes scanned the room, taking in all the equipment and the pool. A weird smile emerged exposing her unsettling teeth.  
“This should do quite nicely. I’ll bring what’s left of the bed down here and have my computer interface transported down.” Her smile faded and a frown developed, although it didn’t disturb the smooth perfection of her golden, hairless skin. “Why are there no mirrors? There’re always mirrors in gyms.” She stalked around the complex, searching for any hidden pads or controls that might give access to any mirrors that might be hidden, but found nothing. “Hmph!” she snorted.  
“I’ll soon put that to rights. My lovely Beverly will want to see what we’re doing...” the smile came back. “...what I’m going to be doing to her...What it is I’m doing to bring her to such exquisite ecstasy...Oh! And vids! We must have vids! If this is where we begin to explore our love, then it’s here that my lovely one should witness the slow destruction of the fucker who’s been defiling her! Yes...how apt. The ever-so-physically-fit Jean-Luc Picard will die on an exercise apparatus! ” Her laughter was maniacal. “Without certain body parts, of course!” She laughed until she was breathless, but no tears formed in her eerie eyes. “I wonder if Beverly would like to be the one to emasculate him?” she grinned again, gently rubbing the pad of her thumb across the keen edge of her knife’s blade. “Oh, but I do so want to be the one to do that...” she sighed, tilted her head back and closed her eyes. In her mind the images of all she wished to do to both Beverly and Jean-Luc scrolled like a vid making her Bartolin’s glands spontaneously exude lubricant and her clit to erect and protrude it’s thick length from inside her body.   
Her hand moved automatically between her legs and the orgasm washed over her within seconds. She sighed and opened her eyes, staring sightlessly at the wood-panelled ceiling. After a few long moments she blinked and lowered her head, one again assessing the gym.  
“Well,” she muttered darkly. “We won’t be staying here all that long anyway. Once Picard’s done away with, we’ll spend a day or two getting acquainted,” she giggled at that, “ then once I take her up to my ship and set course for the clinic, she can begin to choose her enhancements. And while she does that, I’ll set in motion the means to obtain her appointment with the Fen.” Meredith slowly raised her arms out from her body and pirouetted, the light of madness in her extraordinary eyes would’ve chilled the blood of the fiercest warrior.  
“Oh...My Beverly...My Goddess, how we will soar. Wait until I finally take you home! Home...”  
She seemed to come back to some semblance of what might be called rationality. “But first my red haired lovely, I have to find you.”  
Back upstairs she went to the front door and opened it, only to hold up a protective arm and bow into the howling wind, the snow driven horizontally. She immediately retreated, slamming the door so hard it snapped one of the hinges.  
“Fuck!” she seethed. Then lifted her hand and shouted at her wrist, “Computer! Send down clothing appropriate for current weather conditions at my coordinates. Also a scanner, inputted with the personal bio signatures of Doctor Beverly Crusher and Captain Jean-Luc Picard!”  
The neat stack appeared almost instantly at Meredith’s feet. She hated clothing, but she had no other option. Even she, with all her superior strength and resilience couldn’t survive for long outside without adequate protection.   
She seethed with resentment and anger as she dressed, detesting the feeling of the clothing. The scanner was picked up as she shrugged into her padded and insulated coat. Before she’d put on her gloves, head covering or scarf, she activated the device and turned a slow circle, fully expecting at any second for the device to find, then lock onto the requested targets. Meredith was perplexed, then insanely furious when no such thing occurred.  
“Where are you?! Fuck! Don’t tell me I have to go and find you! That is completely unacceptable! You should’ve been here waiting for me, not off somewhere with that fucking shit pile Picard!”  
She then stopped and stood absolutely still as her unhinged mind found the reason for Beverly’s absence. “He knows! He knows and he’s taken you! So, I will have to find you, Beverly my beloved. Find you and rescue you. I will bring both of you back. Yes...yes...then we can begin. Once you’re with me, you’ll understand, my Beverly, my sweet love. You’ll finally understand what love and devotion, ecstasy and exaltation really mean. And it’ll begin with Picard’s death.”  
With her head covering and gloves on, she was winding the scarf around her face as she left the ruined home, her eyes glued to the scanner.  
It took mere seconds for her ferocious rage to return. On the scanner’s screen were multiple targets, seemingly in loose groups spread over a large distance. She lifted her hand and screeched, not only in fury but to be heard over the howling wind.  
“Computer, I gave you specific instructions to locate the bio signatures of Beverly Crusher and Picard! What are all these targets?”  
“I am unable to discern any specific bio signatures.”  
“So what are you telling me?” yelled Meredith. “Are these targets all human or animal or both?”  
“I am unable to make that determination. All I can advise is that all located targets are emitting life signs and are approximately the same or similar body mass.”  
“Then define your fucking search parameters! Discard those readings that are not animal and concentrate on human!”  
“Unable to comply.”  
“Why not?” Screamed the demented woman.  
“The presence of an over abundance of hydrogen in the...”  
“Shut the fuck up! Can you or can you not tell me if any of the targets are human?”  
“No, I cannot.”  
“You fucking cunt! Useless, that’s what you are, fucking useless! How the hell am I supposed to find her if I can’t locate her bio signature?”  
The question had been largely rhetorical, but the computer answered it anyway.  
“Although I cannot achieve this function, I would advise you to search for potable water.”  
The calm voice of the computer seemed to bring some semblance of control back to Meredith. She began to think again.  
“Why?”  
“The falling snow, indeed all the available above-ground water is not fit for consumption, not by humans or the dominant grazing animals indigenous to this area. Thus, the animals must know of a safe and permanent source of water.”  
“And so that fucker Picard must know too! Jesus, he thinks he’s so fucking clever! Well I know now too and I’ll find you using your own conceit!”  
She looked back at her scanner, trying to decide which group of animals to approach first, but suddenly her head shot up and the non-existent frown emerged. “Computer, if the native animals can’t drink the more abundant water, how is it they can graze? Surely the water content in the grasses would be toxic to them?”  
“Extensive investigations over a period of...”  
“Just tell me!”  
“The native herbivores can metabolise the over abundance of hydrogen present in the grasses which in turn utilise photosynthesis to break down the...”  
“Fine! Now shut the fuck up unless you have anything useful to say!”  
Having studied the readings, Meredith chose the most logical route. She knew they couldn’t climb the rocky mountains that rose around the home so that left but one alternative. Downhill, towards the valley floor. Once there she would have to make the decision whether or not to cross the creek and move left, right or straight ahead, or not cross the creek and go either left or right.  
As she trudged off, bent against the wind, once she was out of the clear forecourt, she found herself in thigh-deep snow. It was no impediment, she simply lengthened her stride to compensate, but she had to keep her hand near her ear to hear anything the computer had to say. It remained silent.

“Humph!” sneered Meredith as she thought cruelly. “I should force Picard to eat some grass...see if he can metabolise it! The result would be fun to watch!”  
She began to giggle and it grew to become maniacal laughter. She didn’t stop this insane expression of her unhinged state until she entered the more heavily wooded area. Here she found some protection from the wind and with her long, powerful legs made light work of the less deep covering of snow.  
Having reached the creek, she swept the scanner in an arc, picking up five different, loosely scattered, but generally grouped targets, each containing around twenty to thirty individual bio signatures.  
“Well, well, which one are you hiding my lovely Beverly in, Picard? Hmm?” she sighed, the cloud of steam briefly hiding her head before the wind whisked it away. She peered to her left and nodded decisively. “Yes, that way. I can feel you, Beverly...you’re calling for me, aren’t you? Well, I’m coming, my love, hold on, I’m coming.”  
Fortunately for Jean-Luc and Beverly, Meredith went the wrong way.

 

He couldn’t see her wrinkled nose but Jean-Luc could easily see the disgust in Beverly’s eyes. Though muffled, her softly spoken voice clearly carried her revulsion. “What is that dreadful smell?”  
Behind his scarf, Jean-Luc smiled. He’d been smelling it too for some time and had been waiting for Beverly to make mention of it, as it’d been growing stronger as they carefully approached the grazing herd.  
“That, Beverly, is the male animal’s aftershave...or the equivalent thereof.” He whispered.  
“You have to be kidding! It stinks!”  
“Indeed, you’ll get no argument on that from me, but the females find it very alluring.”  
“Okay, but what is it? Are they exuding something from a gland?”  
“No. It’s far more basic than that. During the rut, the males produce a potent pheromone and excrete it in their urine, which they roll in, making sure their long, shaggy coats are covered it a mixture of urine saturated mud.”  
They were circling the scattered herd, keeping downwind and using the forest as cover. They were getting close, the herd members on the outer reaches only fifty metres away. Having found a large fallen log, they squatted down behind it to assess the situation and take a breather.  
Jean-Luc knew he’d have to impart the next bit of information carefully, first warning Beverly to make no noise.  
“You recall you remarked we should...’make like the animals’?”  
“Yes...” Beverly replied warily. Not liking where the conversation was going.  
“Well,” said Jean-Luc softly, “You must remember to stay quiet, but I have to tell you our best hope of...blending in...is to do just that.”  
The ensuing silence was ominous as Beverly processed his words. The realisation showed clearly in her shocked and repulsed eyes.  
“No!” she whispered vehemently. “Please don’t tell me we’re going to have to...”  
“Yes.” Jean-Luc said apologetically. “We’re going to have to cover ourselves in the urine-mud mixture.”  
“Oh, that’s just lovely!” Beverly’s tone was both sarcastic and angry. “And just how is that going to help? Surely we don’t want to attract any females?”  
“Or males.” Jean-Luc pointed out.  
Beverly groaned softly. “You’re going to tell me the males compete for the females, aren’t you.”  
There was a definite twinkle in Jean-Luc’s eyes. “Yes, but even though we may be...discomfited by what we’re required to do, a providential choice a suitable male’s...patch of mud will be crucial to us.”  
“Why?” Beverly’s one worded question was curt.  
“Because,” Jean-Luc said patiently, knowing the information he was about to impart would eventually override her annoyance. “Like most males of a species, there’s competition amongst the males to win the dominance required to be the one to mate with all the available females.”  
“Natural selection.” Muttered Beverly in a bored tone. “I hate to be the one to deflate your balloon, Jean-Luc, but we’ve known about this kind of behaviour for centuries.”  
“Yes we have.” He agreed. “But things work a little differently here. These Marenan herbivores have a completely contrary system. Yes, at the first sign of females coming into oestrus, the males compete, but...the triumphant male only mates with the females fertile at that particular time. After a few days a new batch of females reaches the peak of their breeding cycle and the males compete again...however...the initial male does NOT take part! The eventual winner of the next competition is the one to mate and this system carries on until all subsequent females of breeding age have been mated. The entire sexually mature female population of the herd may take up to a month before they’re all mated and each ‘batch’ by a weaker male.”  
As he knew it would, Beverly’s analytical mind slipped into gear. “But that’s genetically counterproductive. If less and less physically superior males are mating, why aren’t the species showing signs of weaknesses? What’s their birth rate like...the rate of attrition of their young? How many of their young reach sexual maturity?”  
“Given the natural rate of attrition due to predation, environmental factors...”  
“Wait! Stop right there! Predation? What kind of predation?”  
Shrugging in the thick, padded and insulated clothing robbed the gesture of its impact. “The usual kind. Carnivores.”  
Jean-Luc had to quickly cover her mouth with his gloved hand as Beverly blurted loudly, “Carnivores?!”  
“Yes!” he hissed quietly. “Think, Beverly! You can’t expect a species like those,” he inclined his head towards a group of three females some sixty metres away, diligently digging through the snow to reach the frozen ground cover. “To have no predators? How do you think their numbers would be kept in check? Without predation, the entire area would be overrun with them. And we know they’re dependent on potable water. One would have to speculate just how many animals that water source can support.”  
“So where does that leave us?” said a tightly annoyed and alarmed doctor.  
“Well, for starters, we choose a mud patch used by the weakest male, that way we shouldn’t attract too much attention. As for predators, I know of three types. Staying close to a herd of herbivores, especially smelling like them does put us at a disadvantage in that we’re going to smell like likely prey to any predator, but unlike the herds animals, we have this.” He tapped his temple with his gloved finger. “Tool use, even the ability to climb a damned tree puts us above that of ordinary prey.”  
Beverly gave her lover a long look and shook her head. “The very fact you’ve not described these carnivores tells me it’s not going to be quite as easy as that, Jean-Luc. Can we, for instance, tell when we’re being hunted?”  
“Ah...no, not exactly, but close observance of the herd will be crucial. They have a powerful sense of smell and hearing, Beverly, as do most prey animals. If we observe any skittishness, wariness, then we have to be on our guard too.”  
Closing her eyes briefly, Beverly sighed. “I can’t believe we’re doing this! Coating ourselves in revolting smelling urine-saturated mud, then hanging around the periphery of the herd, thus making ourselves prey, in order to avoid capture by another sort of predator...a mad human!”  
She sighed again. “Does that sound insane to you? Because it sounds absolutely crazy to me!”  
“I know,” Jean-Luc said regretfully. “But unless you can think of an alternative....?”  
“No.” Beverly shook her head. “I just wish there was another way.”  
“Well, the animals should be moving to their water source soon. Perhaps we might find some kind of shelter. As you pointed out, the water has to have a subterranean source, which could mean a cave or some other kind of rock fissure.”  
“Yes, but we can’t stay, can we.”  
“No, not if the herd moves away, but if I’m right...and I think I may be...the animals will stay overnight close to the water. And that would mean if we do find shelter nearby, we can stay in it throughout the night.”  
Beverly had to hand it to him; he seemed to have thought it through. “Okay, first things first. Our mud bath.”  
“Indeed. Cast your eyes over there, just beyond that snow drift.”  
Beverly squinted in the falling snow and just made out the dark mass of an animal’s back. “Yes?”  
“I’ve been watching him. He’s young and quite submissive. He’s made his patch over there and he’s rolled several times. Once the herd begins to move and as long as it’s in the right direction, affording us the downwind position, we can move in and coat ourselves before following the herd and rejoining the periphery.”  
“Lovely. What a charming thing to look forward to.” Beverly offered a very soft chuckle. “Can you believe mud baths have been used as beauty treatments for centuries? Across hundreds, perhaps thousands of cultures, mud has played a part and not just for beauty treatments!”  
“Oh, I know!” whispered Jean-Luc enthusiastically. “Building materials, cooking ware, even medical mud!”  
“Uh huh.” Grinned Beverly, but only her eyes exhibited her mirth. “Mind you, if I applied mud that smells like that...” she tilted her head in the direction of the wallowing male. “I doubt I’d have too many patients!”  
“Be that as it may, that mud just might save our lives.” Said Jean-Luc soberly.  
“Yeah.” Beverly said fatalistically. Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her hand to point. “Hey, look...I think the herd is on the move.”  
“Hmm.” Agreed Jean-Luc. “Obviously we can’t see the sun, but my guess is nightfall isn’t too far away. They seem to be moving away from us, up that slight incline. Give them ten minutes then we move in.”  
“And make like an animal.”  
Jean-Luc’s eyes twinkled and he took Beverly’s hand. “Yes, and perhaps when all this is over, we might indulge our feral sides.”  
The smokiness in Beverly’s eyes was the exact reaction he’d hoped for.   
“I’ve always thought that buried deep beneath your urbanity beat the heart of a true animal, Jean-Luc. I’d love to experience it...feel the full force...in all its fierce glory.”  
He bent to her and pulled his scarf down before doing the same to her. The kiss was awkward but lacked nothing in passion or intent. Having replaced the scarves he whispered huskily, “You have my word, Beverly. As an alpha male, I shall make my claim and take the alpha female for myself. And I do mean take.”  
“I look forward to it, Jean-Luc.” her whisper was every bit as husky as his. In fact he had to draw away, making Beverly frown. “What?”  
“Pheromones, my love. We’re supposed to be using the animal’s...not ours.”  
He couldn’t see her wickedly saucy grin, but he knew it was there as she whispered, “You’re hard, aren’t you.”  
His gaze was intense. “Yes, and you’re wet. And this must stop.”  
“Well I could always shove some snow down your pants.”  
“True, but in the attempt, once you opened my trousers, I’m afraid nature would take over and I would have to ravish you. No, for safety’s sake, you keep your distance for a little while.”  
“And let things...subside.” she giggled softly. “You know, you could challenge one of the males once we’re all muddied up.”  
“Shut up, Beverly, you’re not helping.”  
They were quiet for a few minutes before Beverly added, “Of course having won, you’d have to take me immediately.”  
“I said, shut up, Beverly! This is not the time for verbal foreplay.”  
She sighed and offered a lopsided smile, which he couldn’t see. “Sorry.”  
He gave her a long look and grunted. “It would be nice if you meant it.”  
Before she could protest he rose into a crouch and took her hand. “Come on, the herd has moved far enough away.”  
All levity gone, they broke cover and made their way to the reeking mud patch.

 

Meredith was becoming increasingly frustrated. No matter how hard she tried, the animals seemed to sense her approach and bolted, leaving her in their wake. In the vast repository of knowledge she possessed in her altered mind she knew how to stalk a wild animal, but even employing all the known techniques she still failed. Repeatedly, and her failures were causing her to go further and further away from reality, something that had been tenuous for her for a long time anyway.  
As she stood in the disturbed knee-deep snow, her eyes glaring at the animal prints and scattered manure she smiled with grim anticipation. Into her wrist she shouted, “Computer, send down my Varon T Disruptor. I have a little hunting to indulge in.”  
The weapon materialised at Meredith’s feet and she stooped to pick it up, admiring yet again its innocuous design. “Who’d’ve thought you’d pack the punch you do?” She giggled. “No wonder you were banned in the Federation. ‘Too inhumane.’” She said in a derisive tone. “Too inhumane?” She parroted. “I don’t think you’re ‘inhumane’ enough! Things should die slowly and painfully! Life is fucking painful why should death be any different?”  
She hefted the hand-held weapon and grinned cruelly. “If I have to eliminate every fucking living creature on this planet I’ll eventually find you, Picard, and when I do, I’ll find my lovely Beverly. What’s the old saying? ‘You can run, but you cannot hide’? I’ll find you, Picard; it’s just a matter of time.”  
She trudged off, following the panicked herd. What she didn’t understand was that even employing all the known hunting techniques, the animals instinctively knew something oddly disturbed...not natural was stalking them. But their vigilance and stamina eventually gave out. That’s when the slaughter began. By a simple process of elimination Meredith would eventually find her real prey. Beverly had been right. Meredith was just as much a predator as the natural ones...only far, far more dangerous.

 

Just over four thousand kilometres away, in the Environmental Conservation Department of the local government, an alarm quietly sounded on a console. The operator slid his wheeled chair over to the relevant screen and activated it. What he saw made him gape, then swear. He did some fast research before pressing the tab that would connect him to his immediate superior.  
“Yes, Narad?”  
“Madam,” said the worried ranger. “Something very disturbing is occurring as we speak in the Juroan Mountains Wilderness Park.”  
“Elaborate, please, Narad.”  
“Someone...or something is systematically annihilating all the mereks in the Varr valley area.”  
“What do you mean by annihilating?”  
“Just that, Madam. I’m registering significant losses, so far at least sixty three animals over a five hour time period.”  
“I’m looking at the information now, Narad. I don’t recognise the weapon’s signature...do you?”  
“I’m still checking, Madam, but from what I’ve learned so far is that in all likelihood, it may well be a Varon T disruptor.”  
“My God!” the supervisor said. “But weren’t they banned by the Federation years ago? In fact as far as I know, only a few were ever made.”  
“That’s true, Madam, but if this is indeed a VT disruptor, then someone has either managed to acquire one or has somehow gained the schematics to construct one.”  
“But what would be the point of hunting with a VT? There’s no carcase, no trophy...and why risk hunting at all, especially within a protected area?”  
“Ah...it seems this area is a privately owned enclave, Madam.”  
“Privately owned? Within the Juroan Mountain Wilderness Park? I wasn’t aware there were any privately owned areas within the park! Who’s the owner?”  
Narad began to sweat. His supervisor was a nice person, but when faced with the killing of indigenous wildlife, she became very intense. She took her job very seriously.  
“I’m sorry Madam, but I cannot give you that information. All the documentation pertaining to the ownership of the property has been sealed, coded level five.”  
“A level five code? That’s Starfleet. What the hell is going on here? Has the owner ever taken game before?”  
“Not to our knowledge, Madam.”  
“I don’t like this; I don’t like this at all! Send out an investigation group, Narad...And inform them I wish them to be armed. Tell them whoever is perpetrating this outrage may possibly be in possession of a VT disruptor and act accordingly. I do not want to hear any of our rangers have been injured or killed because some maniac is on the loose with a grudge against mereks!”  
“Yes, Madam.”  
He was about to put her orders into effect when she spoke again. “And Narad; put me through to someone from Starfleet. Not some underling, I want to speak to someone in authority.”  
“Yes, Madam. Placing the call now.”  
“Thank you, Narad.”  
As the connection closed, Narad thought his supervisor sounded tired. He didn’t envy her next task. She was now duty-bound to report the incident to her superiors. They would not be happy. Marena was known for its pristine environment and its dedication to preservation, not only of its wildlife, but all aspects of its ecology. Tourism was strictly limited and controlled and to find that someone had managed to buy an area of land, and the supervisor had yet to find out just how much land, within a wilderness park...and possess enough clout to have the documentation sealed by Starfleet no less, thus keeping it from the local government...the implications were unpleasant and the supervisor had no doubt whatsoever that the entire situation was going to be passed up to the central government. Somewhere, someone was going to be made to feel very uncomfortable about this...and soon.


	3. Burning The Edges Pt.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as Pt.1

Nothing had been said between Beverly and Jean-Luc once they’d managed to cover themselves in the putrid, stinking, disgusting mud, their protective clothing now a dull dark greenish-brown. The herd had crested the slight incline and were now out of sight, but the multitude of tracks and the steaming piles of manure were easy enough to follow, even in the quickly fading light.  
They were making their way across a small plateau when Jean-Luc grabbed Beverly’s coat and tugged her to the snow-covered ground. To her questioning look he pointed silently. She had to squint, but sure enough, at the base of an escarpment the herd had grouped around something, They seemed to be taking turns, most probably drinking, Those waiting wandered about, but didn’t stray too far from the body of the herd. Steam rose from the massed animals creating a thick cloud that didn’t dissipate as the escarpment afforded quite good shelter from the prevailing snow-laden winds. And that presented a very unwanted problem.   
Moving close, their heads touching, Jean-Luc put his mouth where he knew Beverly’s ear was and whispered.  
“I can’t see how we’re going to keep downwind. There is no ‘downwind’ here and it’ll be even worse, as the closer we get to the escarpment, the less wind of any kind there seems to be.”  
It was getting harder and harder to see with the falling snow and the fading light. Both people scoured the landscape and it was Beverly who spotted something that might just help. Adopting the same action as Jean-Luc had done, she whispered softly in his lined and padded, fabric covered ear, “Over there.” She said, pointing. “See? About fifty metres or so on the right of the herd.”  
He was about to say, “What am I looking for?” When he saw it. A dark crack in the face of the escarpment. He nodded slowly.  
“What d’you think?”  
“I think you’re bloody marvellous! With our...scent...we should be able to retreat back down the incline a little way, then circle to the right and approach through those trees we saw. With any luck, the herd is going to be more interested in getting their drink than keeping watch. Although that’s not to say they won’t be on alert. Prey animals never lapse in their vigilance, but there are times when they are more vulnerable than others.”  
The wriggled backwards on the stomachs until they felt the downward incline. Then, at a crouch, they went crab-wise around the herd until they could make their approach. While waiting, hidden in the trees, Beverly whispered mildly, “You seem to know quite a lot about these animals. In fact you seem to know a lot about Marena in general.”  
“I’ve been here before, several times in fact.”  
“As a tourist...or as Liam’s guest?”  
His eyes glittered and Beverly got the distinct impression she was stepping on toes. However, undaunted as usual, she ignored it. “Come on, no secrets, remember.”  
Taking a deep breath and briefly closing his eyes, Jean-Luc gave in to the inevitable.  
“I have been here a total of five times and on each occasion as Liam’s guest.”  
“Alone with him?”  
“No, not always.”  
“I see. So...the times you two weren’t alone together...was the company male or female...or both?”  
“Beverly...” There was a note of exasperation in that one, whispered word.  
“Oh, come on, Jean-Luc. We’re adults. We can tell each other our...stories.”  
He seemed to be devoting all his concentration on the herd as the animals who’d had their drink were settling down for the night. It took a non-too-gentle poke in his ribs to make him return to the conversation.  
“Mixed.” He hissed quietly.  
“Really? And were you paired off?”  
“Sometimes, yes.” Resignation coloured his tone now, knowing his lover could be relentless...at times.  
“So...you met some...interesting women?”  
He turned and regarded Beverly with frank assessment.  
“Is this simple curiosity...or jealousy, perhaps?”  
He couldn’t see her gape, but he did hear her soft gasp. “Jealousy? Oh come off it, Jean-Luc! I’m just curious, that’s all.”  
“Well it seems to me a little more that simple curiosity, Beverly.” Whispered a disgruntled Jean-Luc.  
“Can you blame me?” Beverly’s eyes showed her irritation. “Those years between you losing the Stargazer and taking command of the ‘D’ are a little vague, Jean-Luc.”  
“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean I was off world, attending damned orgies here with Liam. For your information, his home here wasn’t even built until about ten years ago! And as you well know, I was teaching at the Academy for most if not all of that transition time!”  
“Which makes your absences all the more intriguing.”   
He was about to vehemently protest when Beverly punched his arm. “Look, I know you did some quiet diplomatic work that was all hush-hush, and I also know over the years we’ve served together we’ve both had relationships. It’s just that I know you, Jean-Luc and the thought of you here, in the remote location and where you stayed, being...entertained by a woman...or two...you have to admit it’s tantalising. You don’t go in for casual affairs, Jean-Luc; you’re just not that kind of man.”  
He relented and sighed. “Your assumption is these...soirees were sexual.”  
“Weren’t they?”  
“All right. Yes, I did, on two occasions enjoy a physical interlude with a particular woman.”  
“There! See, that wasn’t so hard was it?”  
His gaze softened, although Beverly could barely see his eyes now. “I prefer your other forms of interrogation, Beverly. Much more pleasurable.”  
“And satisfying, but as illuminating as this has been, don’t you think we should make our move? The animals have all settled now.”  
His agreement wasn’t vocal, it was physical. He rose from behind the thick tree trunk they’d been crouched behind and stood absolutely still, studying what little he could see. Pulling down his scarf he sniffed the air, nodding slowly. “We seem to be blending in.”  
Beverly joined him, whispering, “If by that you mean we stink as badly as they do, then yes, I think we’ll fit right in.”  
Taking her gloved hand in his, they moved slowly, crouched and wary, keeping a watchful eye on the heard and their ears tuned for any sounds of alarm from the sentry animals. They reached the rock fissure and had just enough room to squeeze sideways inside. It opened up only large enough to allow them to sit, but the absence of the ever-present snow was a huge relief.  
Under Beverly’s instruction, they removed their boots in the darkness and massaged their feet until they burned painfully with restored circulation. Muttering darkly, Beverly said quietly, “I wish I had a medical tricorder. I wouldn’t mind betting we’ve both got some damage here.”   
“Frostbite?” asked a concerned Jean-Luc.  
“If not mild frostbite then certainly cold burn. Either way, the circulatory systems of our feet have been compromised.”  
“Is there anything we can do?”  
“Only massage to encourage the blood to flow into the extremities. Warmth via that blood will help...but of course tomorrow...”  
“It’s back to square one.” He sighed in frustration. “Damn!”  
“No point worrying about it now, my love. Let’s make a bed with our outer clothing and wrap ourselves up. Our combined body warmth will help us get to sleep. I don’t know about you, but I’m beat.”  
Jean-Luc lifted one hand and caressed Beverly’s face. “You sleep, Beverly my love, I’ll keep watch.”  
“Nup. Either we both sleep, or we both stay awake.”  
Knowing arguing was pointless; Jean-Luc tried another tack. “What about hypothermia? If we succumb, the last thing to occur will be to fall asleep...a sleep which we won’t wake from. If I stay awake, I can make sure that doesn’t happen to you.”  
“Nice try, Jean-Luc but hypothermia isn’t going to be a problem in here.”  
“Why?”  
“You can’t feel it?” Beverly asked softly.  
He was about to ask what it was he couldn’t feel when he suddenly realised what it was. It was warmer inside. Frowning, he reached out the small distance and felt the wall with his bare hand.  
“The water the animals have been drinking...it must be thermal. Our body heat couldn’t possibly have warmed this space, small as it is, in such a short period of time.”  
“Precisely. Somewhere in this escarpment, coming from above, below of somewhere in between is thermally heated water...and it’s drinkable. I don’t have to remind you we need that water just as much...if not more, than those animals. Somehow we have to find a source.” The doctor said firmly.  
“Agreed. For now, we get warm and avail ourselves of some much-needed sleep. Once rested, we can explore....very carefully. The last thing we want to do is spook the herd.”  
“Okay by me. Now come on, we’ve made like animals, we stink, but now we make like caterpillars and cocoon.”  
Jean-Luc grinned as they settled down, swaddled in the outerwear, he chuckled softly, “Eminently better, a vast improvement.”  
“Jean-Luc? Shut up and go to sleep.”  
“Yes, Doctor.”  
Her soft kiss was the last thing he remembered as sleep rapidly took both of them.

 

Sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, the head ranger’s eyes were trained below, although he could see nothing through the thickly falling snow, he knew they were flying above a densely forested valley that would soon give way to a more sparsely treed area and a river, upstream of which was the home they were going to use as a reference point. But his mind wasn’t on the white vista below and around their craft. His thoughts were directed at the terrible danger he and his fellow rangers were about to face.  
It’d been all very well for his superior to inform him to take ‘adequate precautions’ as there was a distinct possibility whoever was slaughtering the mereks was using a VT disruptor, but the problem was there were no ‘adequate precautions’ to take.  
The damned weapon was utterly lethal. There was no wounding by this weapon. One hit, even a glancing shot, would bring about a slow and exceptionally painful death, the unfortunate victim writhing in unspeakable agony, screaming as their body slowly disintegrated. It was for this very reason the weapon was banned in the Federation. He sighed and rubbed his brow before looking over his shoulder at his team. Six Marenas sat in the body of the craft, three on each side. Four males and two females all dressed accordingly in well-insulated ‘intelligent’ camouflaged suits and...The head ranger sighed, each, like himself, adorned with lightweight but exceptionally strong body armour. It too was installed with the same ‘aware’ camouflage program and would stop a normal phaser blast up to but not beyond level fourteen. Levels fifteen and sixteen (the maximum setting) would kill the wearer but at least give them the chance of survival provided they could get to a medical facility post haste. As for other kinds of disruptors, even those with no ‘stun’ setting, such as a Klingon weapon, the armour would provide a modicum of protection...but a VT disruptor...The head ranger brought his eyes back to face front, slowly shaking his head.  
“Might as well be naked for all the good the armour’ll be against a VTD.” He muttered darkly, prompting the pilot to glace up from her control panel and give him a quizzical look.  
“Something on your mind?” She asked with a sympathetic smile. They’d been friends and occasional lovers for some time and she knew his moods well.  
He sighed again and made a show of tightening the straps of his backpack. 

“No, not really.” He replied. “Just a sticky job, that’s all.”  
The pilot was no fool. Rangers in body armour was not a common sight. She’d ferried many teams into the wilderness and for many reasons over the years...after all, that was her job, but in all that time she’d never seen a team of rangers dressed in this particular type of body armour. It was military-issue.  
Leaning ever so slightly towards him and keeping her voice low, the pilot said,  
“Want to talk about it?” She looked meaningfully at the body armour and he frowned, his brow ridges just visible as they lowered under the eye slit of his helmet, its cover lifted until it was time to exit the craft.  
“Not much to say, really. Some nut job...or nut jobs have embarked on a killing spree. Apparently mereks are being wiped out on a grand scale.”  
Again the pilot made a not-so-subtle show of looking directly at the body armour. The head ranger knew exactly what her tacit question was.   
“I’m not supposed to say anything, but it looks like whoever’s responsible is using a VTD.”  
“And that is?” asked the nonplussed pilot.  
“A Varon T Disruptor.”  
“Never heard of it.”  
“Nor should you. They have no place in any civilised society. The Federation banned them years ago.”  
“Then how...?”  
He cut her off, his anxiety making him curt. “I don’t know!” He then relented. “I’m sorry, Vlann, I shouldn’t’ve snapped. The VTD is a terrible weapon, one which we have no defence against.”  
Her face showed both her concern and confusion. “They why...?”  
“Because it’s our job.” The head ranger said, his wan smile hidden by his helmet. “We...All Marenas have a vested interest in protecting our world and everything on it. As rangers we’ve sworn an oath to that effect. This...atrocity...must be stopped.”  
“Okay, I get that.” Vlann said in a measured tone. “But why would anyone want to hunt mereks? Especially using such...overkill?”  
Morok, the head ranger sighed and shook his head again. “I’ve no idea. It’s not as if their meat is a delicacy; and their coats...”  
Vlann wrinkled her flared nose. “Oh they stink! Even the females’ pelts...I remember once as a child being taken to some museum with my parents and there was a display...a real one, not a simulation...of a typical merek herd. We could smell it even before we got into that part of the building! Despite all the efforts to cleanse and sanitise the pelts, they still reeked. Of course there were complaints from the public and eventually the display was removed. I tell you, Morok, it wouldn’t be hard to find where they’ve stored them.”  
Morok chuckled, grateful for Vlann’s efforts to lighten his dark mood. “I doubt they kept them, Vlann. If you delve into Marena’s history, you’ll find our ancestors hunted another beast, one that lived in huge proportions in the hinterland. The animal was bigger than a merek, the meat was more nutritious and...” He grinned...“No smell. They made clothing, shelters...”  
Vlann gave him a bored look. “I have read our history texts, Morok, I’m not a complete moron.”  
“I never said you were!” Protested the ranger. Then her saw the twinkle in the white-on-black eyes of his friend and shook his head. “You do that so easily, Vlann.”  
“And you fall for it every time.” Her smile was warm, but then she sobered. “We’re about ten minutes out. Secure for landing.”   
“You’ll do a sweep?”  
“Oh, yes, but in this weather it’s going to be hard, even for our instruments to pick things up. That creek you pointed out? The one that feeds the river? I think your best bet is to start at the confluence. Go up the valley. The house will be close enough to keep your reference and I happen to know...as I’m sure you do too...the mereks of the Varr valley make good use of the springs along the south side.”  
“The escarpment.” Murmured Morok. “Still that goes for a very long way, Vlann. Our scans showed the killing as taking place further north.”  
“Yes.” Agreed Vlann. “But if the hunter...or hunters are intent on wiping out all the mereks in the Varr valley, they’re going to run out of prey and have to move down, keeping the creek to the west. And that will bring them to the richest source of thermal water in the entire escarpment.”  
She abruptly ceased talking and concentrated on her console. Morok turned and said quietly to his expectant team,  
“Five minutes. Check your equipment.”  
The head ranger again looked down into the white shroud of snow, hoping against all hope he would lead his team out in one piece.

 

Just as Vlann had predicted, Meredith was running out of prey. So far she had eliminated four separate herds of the beasts, grinning with insane glee as each poor animal brayed in agony as it slowly disintegrated.  
The disgust Meredith felt for these creatures only increased as her hyper-sensitive olfactory system was assailed by the overpowering stench of the males. It certainly wasn’t a case of her justifying the senseless slaughter as a means of ridding the air of the dreadful odour, but more that she felt with each unfortunate animal’s death; she was getting that much closer to Beverly.  
After each annihilation of a herd, she would calmly check her device, the satisfaction in seeing the reduction of targets making her feel elated and excited. If not for the time it would’ve taken, she would have paused long enough to masturbate, such was her fast-growing anticipation. Knowing the next heard was further down the valley, she made a mental note of their position and turned, the deep snow slowly lessening in depth as she entered the more heavily treed area.  
She knew, even without the information on the device, mereks didn’t live above the tree-line. Without sufficient ground cover to sustain them there was no point, so the animals lived within the treed areas where they knew digging would reveal the frozen, but highly nutritious vegetable matter.  
When the females were due to give birth, the herds would move down into the hinterland, but once the young were weaned, only a few short weeks after entering the harsh, cold world, the herd would return to their ranges within the valley.  
Other herds in other valleys did the same thing, but interestingly, each herd returned to a specific valley and there were some very slight genetic differences between the herds of different areas.  
The genetic diversity of the species seemed to rely on breeding within the populations of the particular valley in which they lived, yet another scientific mystery. Such a small gene pool should’ve rendered the species unsustainable but the opposite was true. They flourished and were a very robust and successful species. If not for the penchant of the males to anoint themselves so disgustingly, they may have, in the distant past, been farmed. Their coats were of high quality, it’s just no one, not even with the advanced technology of the 24th century had managed to find a way to rid the animal’s coat of the smell. But that too was a saving grace. It had protected the animals from some kinds of predation and having to be domesticated.  
Just as the elephants of Earth were able to communicate sub-sonically over great distances, so the mereks had also broadcast the danger signal. As Meredith made her way down the valley, she was blissfully unaware that every herd in her path knew of her approach and began themselves to move en masse, further down the valley. 

 

It was the restlessness of the herd that woke Jean-Luc. By now, having been assailed by the stench for so long, it had lost some of its impact but along with the ever-present reeking smell, Jean-Luc detected something else, a new subtle change. And somehow a primitive part of his brain recognised it. He gave Beverly a gentle shake and she woke immediately, taking only a few short seconds to orientate herself.  
“What is it?” she whispered.  
“Something’s disturbing the herd. I think they’re on the move.” He replied, also whispering.  
“What’s doing it?”  
“Fear.”  
“How can you tell?”  
For the first time, Jean-Luc drew his eyes away from the narrow entrance and looked down into Beverly’s face, barely visible in the darkness.  
“I...I don’t know. I can smell it...I think.”  
“So...a predator?”  
“Possibly.” Jean-Luc said but Beverly knew he had something more specific on his mind.  
“She coming; isn’t she.” There was no fear in Beverly’s voice, only stoic acceptance.  
“I think so, yes.”  
Now moving within the confines of their small rock fissure, they began to dress.  
“So what now?” asked Beverly. “I don’t have to tell you we need to drink. Surely your thirst is as urgent as mine?”  
“Yes, it is, but we have to stay with the herd.”  
Beverly frowned. “Can you see what’s happening outside?”  
“I haven’t looked yet, but I can see from here that it’s still dark.” Jean-Luc replied.  
“Okay, well why don’t we use the cover of night to find the water source, drink our fill and then, if the herd’s moved on, we follow like we did before?”  
He considered the suggestion for a few moments. Beverly couldn’t quite see his face, but she did make out him shaking his head.  
“We would be too exposed.”  
“Jean-Luc,” Beverly said, barely containing her impatience. “If we go out there, back into the snow and freezing temperatures, we not only face hypothermia, you know that, but if we’re dehydrated too, just how long do you think we’re going to survive? We need everything going for us, all our senses and our bodies operating as best we can and that’s not going to happen if we don’t drink...and soon!”  
“I know that.” Jean-Luc replied, still trying to think and finding it hard. It slowly dawned on him this was exactly what Beverly was talking about. His mental faculties were being compromised by his body’s lack of sufficient water. It helped him to come to his decision.  
“You’re right, of course. Are you ready?”  
“Yes. Do we have a plan?”  
“I think so. Once the herd moves off, we find the water, that shouldn’t be all that hard, even in the dark, the snow should be well trampled and the water emitting steam, we drink until we can’t hold any more, then as you suggest, we follow the herd.”  
They began to wriggle one-at-a-time through the fissure. Emerging cautiously, Jean-Luc peered into the darkness, but although he couldn’t see anything much, the lessening of the smell told him all he needed to know.   
“They’ve gone.” He said in a low voice.  
“Right, “Said Beverly in a no-nonsense tone. “Let’s go get our drink and get moving.”  
In silence they descended the short distance back down to the ground and quickly found the soiled and muddied snow where the animals had gathered to drink. Bubbling up and forming a shallow pool was the precious water, steaming in the still air and giving off a faint ferrous odour.  
They had to lie down on the mud, it was too deep and glutinous to step into to reach the pool and the water was surprisingly hot, but they did indeed drink until they could take no more before shuffling backwards and climbing to their feet.  
Unfortunately this had effectively removed a lot of their urine-mud mixture from the front of their clothes. It had dried in the warm confines of the fissure and Beverly screwed her face up in disgust as she watched Jean-Luc make his way to a male’s ‘patch’ to re-cover his clothing in the foetid mess.  
Silently she followed him and copied his actions. As they left the area, picking out the masses of prints and manure piles in the snow, Jean-Luc said, “I’ve no idea what status the male who made that patch had. We may run into some trouble as a result.”  
Beverly was just about to make a sarcastic remark when they left the shelter of the escarpment and snow began to fall, driven by a stiff wind. It was only then that both of them realised the snow had not been falling before.  
“Great.” Muttered Beverly darkly. “Oh, that’s just great!”  
Jean-Luc took her gloved hand in his and looked at her. They couldn’t see each other’s faces, but the falling snow picked out pin-points of light in their eyes.  
“It’ll help mask us, Beverly.” He said gently.  
“I know,” she replied and he heard the gentle apology in her voice. “It just seems like everything’s conspiring against us.”  
“Come on, we’ll make do. We’re almost through day one. That leaves only two more days, Beverly. We’re well trained and resourceful. We’ll get by. Besides...” his grip of her hand tightened. “I have not only you to protect but our child. And that, Beverly my dear, makes me every bit as dangerous as that mad woman so hell-bent of whatever it is she has in mind.”  
They continued to trudge through the haphazardly trampled snow, left in the wake of the spooked herd. Silence reigned for a little while until Beverly said quietly,  
“But that just it, Jean-Luc. You and I know exactly what she’s got in mind. She wants me and she’ll take great delight in murdering you to get me.”  
Before he could respond to that, Beverly said with quiet determination, “I won’t allow it, Jean-Luc. If she manages to somehow take you, there’s no way in hell she’ll get me...or our child. I’ll take my own life before I let that happen.”  
Shocked, Jean-Luc halted, bringing Beverly to an abrupt stop. “You can’t mean that!” he said vehemently, the pinking light of dawn just penetrating the falling snow. “You must stay alive! You and our child...”  
“Mean nothing without you! Jean-Luc...she has no interest in children, especially any child of yours! She would see it as...I don’t know...an infection? A defect? In any case I’ve no doubt she’d eliminate it and then what would happen to me? I’d be in the clutches of a delusional, completely insane woman who’s fixated on me. Believe me, Jean-Luc, not only would my life have no meaning without you...or our child...I would consider death preferable to being that woman’s...toy!”   
The full ramifications of Beverly’s intense words hit home and Jean-Luc suddenly pulled Beverly into a tight embrace, heedless of the stinking clothes.  
“It won’t come to that, Beverly, ma bien-aimée. I will protect you, both of you.”  
He eased his embrace and they pulled down their scarves just enough to kiss. Jean-Luc’s deep voice was rough with emotion as he said quietly,  
“Come, we must catch up with the herd before full daylight.”  
Nothing more was said as they continued, but their hands held tight.

 

Having completed three sweeps of the immediate area, Vlann grunted softly as she idled the engine and activated the hatch release. As Morok left his seat, she caught his hand and said sotto voce, “Come back to me, Morok. If you die, I’ll never speak to you again!”  
She could see by the way his monochrome eyes twinkled that he was smiling.  
“Now how could I resits that?”  
She watched silently as the team exited, then switched on the comm. system. Her voice was heard in their helmets.  
“You’re all aware of the safety protocols in this kind of situation. I will be hovering at an altitude of five hundred metres and I’ll be monitoring you as best I can. If I detect anything, you’ll be the first to know. Test your emergency summons activators now.”  
Each team member did so, and satisfied, Vlann gave a wicked grin. “I know it’s inappropriate, but...Good hunting!”  
The team stood back while the craft powered up its engines and rose, quickly disappearing in the falling snow.  
Morok turned to his team. Now, with their visors locked in place, he could only see their eyes through the polarised clear aluminium. They were all trained on him and he saw no trace of fear or hesitation in any of them. Pride and affection made both of his hearts swell.  
“Right!” he said with authority, his voice losing nothing over the comm. system that linked them. “You’ve read the reports, you heard the briefing, you know what we’re facing and the potential therein. We have a job to do, of that there is absolutely no doubt, but I want to stress...and I mean this...yes, we do our job, as we have sworn an oath to do, but we’re rangers. Nowhere in our oath does it say we have to die to carry out either our duty or our oath.”  
He paused to gauge the effects his words were having. No one was flinching.  
“A VTD is a disgusting demonstration of the worst kind of science. Whoever designed it was, in my opinion, murderously insane and it would appear, if our reports are correct, that a VTD is in the hands of someone...or some people who share that insanity.  
“You know what a VTD does.” He slapped his hand on the chest area of his body armour. “This will NOT help. If we encounter anyone with a VTD, we tranquilise and secure and ask questions later. Take no chances! And keep in mind a VTD will vaporise, albeit slowly, any living thing. That includes trees. So if you come under fire, your only hope of cover is behind solid rock, but even then, a VTD will, after a few shots, shatter any rock, so either get your shot off and make it a good one, or keep on the move. Are we good?”  
As one, the team yelled, “We are good!”  
“Then let’s go. We move to the last known ‘killing’, approximately seven point six kilometres upstream of the creek. The killings have been confined to the Varr valley so far. Let’s try and keep it that way. If our perpetrators follow their pattern, they should be moving towards us, coming down from the tree-line. Stay alert, people and don’t be afraid to report anything you might find suspicious or unusual. Technology’s fine, but we’re Marenas and this...” he swept his arm in a wide arc. “Is our home!”  
Adopting their prearranged pattern, they spread out in a long line, each member dividing their attention between their heads up display on the interior of their helmets and their natural senses. Their hunt had begun.

 

Had Meredith been paying attention and not indulging in her fantasy world she would’ve seen the changes on the screen of her scanning device. But she felt so superior, she knew she was so superior, relying on a simple tool was, she felt, beneath her.   
Even its quiet beeping went unnoticed for some time; in fact it was irritation that finally drew Meredith’s attention away from her fantasies and back to the real world.  
Tugging her jacket pocket so hard she tore it, the furious woman gripped the device and held it up, scowling at it as if she could make it shut up with nothing more than a withering glare.  
It took several long seconds before she remembered the alarm deactivator. She found the button and pressed it savagely, baring her large teeth as the annoying sound was silenced. On the brink of shoving it back into her ruined pocket, a small, almost sane part of her megalomaniacal mind surfaced. She stared down at the device, saying in confusion, “Why the hell were you making all that racket?  
She had to wipe the snowflakes off the screen and peer. What she saw made her growl, a menacing sound that would chill any creature, hunter or prey.  
“Who are you and why do you dare hunt me?”  
On her screen she could see the next two herds, moving away slowly down the valley, but coming towards her, in a skirmish line no less, were a series of seven dots, each one representing a potential target.  
“Oh, my, but what fun!” she yelled as she pirouetted in the knee-deep snow. Lifting her hand she called into her wrist, “Computer, identify targets, moving in a straight line towards my position.”  
“Unable to comply.”  
“Fuck you! Why not?”  
“The falling snow contains...”  
“I know about the fucking hydrogen! That’s not what I asked you.”  
“Please repeat your request.”  
Meredith’s screech of rage was heard quite some distance away. The senior males in the merek herds began to round up their herds, packing them into tighter groups and using the single horn situated between their ears to encourage stragglers to keep up. Tension was building. It wouldn’t take too much more for a stampede to occur.  
None of this was registered by Meredith. Had she just studied her screen for a few moments she would’ve seen for herself why her ‘targets’ were behaving oddly. Instead she allowed her fury to subsume her. “Computer!” she shrieked. “You fucking useless piece of shit! Those targets had to have come from somewhere. Is there a ground craft at the house? Or something flying reconnaissance?”   
“Yes, Although scans are hampered, enough information has been gained to identify a type 4 team mover. It is, at present, holding station above what appears to have been the ‘drop zone’.”  
“Is it private, corporate or government?”  
“Unknown but on the balance of chance, it is my opinion it is government. The killing of large numbers of merek within a declared wilderness area was always going to attract attention.”  
Rolling her inhuman eyes, Meredith said sarcastically, “So what you’re taking so fucking long to tell me is that my new targets are most probably rangers.”  
“Yes.”  
Hefting the VTD in her gloved hand, Meredith grinned cruelly. “Well Marenan’s have no better protection from one of these than the stupid, plodding mereks. Still, I’ve no doubt they’ll scream just as loudly!”  
Throwing her head back, she laughed as she continued to make her way down the valley, only now she took the precaution of glancing at the screen every now-and-then.

 

Jean-Luc knew Beverly was tiring. The cold was creeping up their legs again and he knew they should stop, find some kind of shelter and take off the boots so they could massage the circulation back into their feet which neither of them had been able to feel for some time now, but what was of more immediate concern to Jean-Luc was Beverly’s physical well being.  
He could only see her eyes but they were dull and by the way she laboured through the snow, each lifting of her leg to plunge her foot into the metre-deep snow taking more and more out of her...and then there was her breathing. Even through the thick scarf that covered her lower face he could hear her wheezing. Whenever they stopped, her raspy breaths came out in short bursts, the condensation beading on the synthetic material of the scarf.  
He wanted to say something, make some kind of concession, even a token one, but he knew the minute the words were out of his mouth, she’d refute them, and even her pregnancy would be refused as a reason for slowing down or acting in any way other than what they’d discussed and decided on.  
Jean-Luc was rueing that discussion now. He’d allowed Beverly’s bravado, which he now knew to be false, to lull him, to make him forget she was woman of middle years experiencing a pregnancy. She shouldn’t be out in the elements, she should most certainly not be hunted and she shouldn’t be forced to do more than she was capable of. And that was the crux of the matter. She was always capable. It simply never occurred to Jean-Luc that Beverly Crusher would ever be in a situation where she couldn’t cope. “FOOL!” He admonished himself savagely. “You damned fool, Picard! What the hell do you think she is? Some kind of uber-Frau?”  
The wind had dropped to almost nothing but the snow was falling very heavily. So heavily the tracks they were following were being quickly obliterated. It was only the occasional still-steaming half-buried pile of manure that gave any clue that they were still following the herd. Jean-Luc had been staring down at the white-on-white snow covered ground, deeply immersed in his self-flagellation when he felt Beverly tug his sleeve. Coming to an abrupt halt, he raised his head to peer into her eyes saying softly,  
“What is it?”  
“I have to pee again.”  
This was the third such stop in the last hour. He knew that having drunk so much water and with her pregnancy, although still in its early stages, frequent urination was going to be a factor for her, in fact both of them, but it’d been Beverly who’d been most affected. So far he hadn’t felt the need, but he wanted to make her feel better so he smiled and said in a light-hearted way,   
“Well I’m glad you brought it up, Beverly, because I’m quite full myself.”  
Her snort let him know she didn’t believe him for a moment, but the gentle bump of her shoulder against his told him he was forgiven. They looked about but with the visibility down to less than a metre, it was a case of either try to find a tree, which was the wise thing to do to try and disguise their scent, or, rather than lose what little they could see of the herd’s tracks, do it right where they stood.  
Jean-Luc saw that Beverly had made up her mind when she began to undo her jacket which would give her access to her trousers. Sighing, he used his teeth to pull his gloves off his hands so he too could open his jacket and manipulate the fly.  
What neither of them knew was that the herd had circled around to the west. They sensed they were being followed and, although they didn’t equate that feeling with the general unease pervading the entire valley, the males had decided to usher the herd into a tighter pack and bring them around so that they were now behind whatever it was that’d been tracking them.  
No breeze carried any scent but as the herd moved to within twenty metres or so of the stationary pair, two things happened. The overpowering stench of the urine-mud mixture on their clothing mixed with the fresh unidentified scent of their urine, carried aloft but its own steam was enough to panic the herd and the inevitable stampede occurred.  
They were back-to-back, Beverly squatting, Jean-Luc standing, feet slightly braced when the ground began to rumble. Even muffled by the snow both humans recognised it for what it was immediately. Neither said a word, there wasn’t time. Jean-Luc turned and grabbed a handful of the back of Beverly’s coat, pulling her with all his strength as he loped through the snow, running blindly.  
Beverly did what she could to help, but with her pants down around her ankles and no time to stop to pull them up, all she could do was push with her feet, making long backwards jumps.   
The first impact with a frenzied beast tore Jean-Luc’s grip from Beverly’s jacket. He heard a brief cry then his world went mad. It took several long minutes and many painful blows from the horned males before Jean-Luc finally realised he had indeed made a bad choice in selecting the patch to source their urine-mud mix. It was an obviously subordinate male and one which the herd saw as expendable.  
He knew it was vital to stay on his feet, but a well-aimed blow right in the middle of his back sent him sprawling face down in the hard-packed snow. The trampling was over mercifully quickly, the herd more interested in getting away than exacting revenge.   
In the eerie silence that followed, the blood from several head wounds stained the snow around the unconscious man’s head as it began to settle and bury him.

 

That first blow that had wrenched Jean-Luc’s grip from her jacket had sent Beverly flying through the air. The breath forced from her lungs in an explosion of sound. Incredibly she landed on the back of one of the mereks, further enraging it. It spun in a tight circle, flinging Beverly off and into a tree. She slid to its base, winded and trying to get her bearings while struggling to pull her pants up. All she could hear were the snorts and heavy huffing of the fast moving herd and the air was filled with steam, redolent with the now familiar stench.   
It was almost a sixth-sense warning that tuned Beverly’s head, but it probably saved her life. A male, large even for its kind, was charging. Head down, horn aimed, it would’ve struck her head, killing her instantly. With bare seconds to spare, she threw herself sideways. The horn missed its target, but the forefeet didn’t. The beast stomped on Beverly repeatedly. She had adopted a defensive curl, so many of the blows simply slid off but some didn’t and they hurt. Luckily the padding of her clothing absorbed much of the blows and also went some way to protecting her from the sharpness of the cloven hoofs, but she still felt her flesh being sliced.  
Then, as suddenly as it’d begun, it was over. The last thing Beverly thought before she slipped into unconsciousness was... “Oh, God...What do we do now?”

 

After moving with relative ease through the snow on their softly booted, splayed feet for some three hours, a quiet alarm sounded on Morok’s helmet. He knew the others of his team had received the same warning as everyone had stopped, absolutely still.  
Using hand gestures, he instructed his team to take up an arc, widely spaced and slowly moving forward. Their natural senses on alert, they fully expected to have advanced warning from both their technology and their innate inborn wariness, but the terrible, bright green blast of deadly energy that struck like a snake from out of the blank whiteness of the heavily falling snow took them all by surprise. To Morok’s left, one of the female rangers, Javen was her name he recalled, screamed in unspeakable agony, her body writhing as it slowly disintegrated.   
The party would’ve remained standing stock-still in shock, sitting ducks to be picked off if not for Morok quickly regaining his wits. Not bothering with keeping communication silence, he bellowed, “Run! Take cover and identify target, return fire as soon as you have a shot to take!”  
It was as if the team had been struck with the same jolt. As one they turned and ran, their splayed feet never more useful than now as they effortlessly traversed the powdery snow. As they ran several of the team shouted together creating a cacophony of unintelligible sound.  
Morok’s barked, “Silence! Pimum, you’re 2IC. Take Klenn and Bruy, make for the creek, there’s a good rock cover down there. Hevruk, you Zeron and I will...”  
The sinister hushed whoosh of the discharging VTD was heard at the same time it appeared, as before seeming from out of nowhere. Hevruk pitched forward, grotesquely trying to reach for his foot which was already gone, the slow disintegration moving up his leg. Taking a stupendously foolish risk or conversely showing exceptional bravery, Morok ran to his friend, and wrenched up his helmet, exposing the band of dark honey-coloured skin of his neck. Moving with great haste, Morok placed the muzzle of his tranquiliser rifle within ten centimetres and fired. Merciful seconds later the hideous screaming ceased and Hevruk’s body lay still as it slowly disappeared.  
Immediately on the move again, Morok just avoided another blast from the VTD which struck the snow just where he’d been standing. He used the resulting cloud of steam and icicles to run at a zigzagging crouch, yelling, “Bruy, you’re with me! Down to the creek, all of us! Move! Keep jigging; don’t give them a clear shot!”

As they ran, Pimum panted, “I’m not seeing a target! The only thing that’s registered on my display is the fucking VTD and then only when the damned thing fires!”  
“Me too!” Morok said through gritted teeth. “I can’t even sense them!”  
A new voice interrupted. “Should we call Vlann to get us out?”  
“NO!” Morok’s reply was vehement. “That would only make her and the team mover a target. We need her safe and out of the way. She’s our ticket out of here. Keep that in mind if you’re thinking of activating the emergency summons, Klenn.”  
Nothing more was said as the team beat their hasty retreat.

Meredith sneered at her device, noting the scattered withdrawal of her targets. She debated following them and picking them off at will; she’d enjoyed the agonised screaming, that was until the last one had been cut short. From her readouts, as vague as they were, she could tell the victim had been alive when it died, so that meant one of its compatriots had rendered it unconscious somehow, thus denying her the pleasure of hearing its agony and that really irritated her. “Where’s the fun in that?” she said with puerile sullenness. “They’re like all the rest of them...they don’t want me to have any fun!”  
With a savage kick at the snow, she raised the VTD and obliterated a tree. She idly considered denuding the entire forest but eventually ditched the idea. There was no satisfaction in using a weapon like the VTD on targets that couldn’t feel anything. That was the whole point of a VTD. It was all about feeling the end of your life. Slowly and with as much pain as possible.   
Casting her eyes down at her device she frowned at what she saw.  
“Why are you doing that?” she said with annoyance. “You’re supposed to be grazing you stupid fuckers, not running around like fucking defective clockwork toys! Jesus! Do I have to do everything?!”  
Glaring down the wooded slope, her enhanced vision gave her a penetrating view even through the falling snow. It was that advantage that has so confused the rangers. She could see them but they, or more to the point, their technology, couldn’t ‘see’ her. She had been so altered she no longer registered on any scanner and as far as the Marenan’s natural senses went, because they’d never encountered anything as alien as Meredith before, they had nothing with which to compare.   
As Meredith’s madness continued to consume her she never noticed that the immense storehouse of knowledge she possessed, courtesy of the Fen, was being used less and less. So sure of her superiority, she was allowing her megalomania to override her knowledge, thus she didn’t recognise what she was seeing on her device’s screen.  
The mereks weren’t ‘running around like defective clockwork toys’, they were stampeding and if she’d accessed what she knew about mereks she’d’ve known about the subsonic warning system and the propensity for the males to draw in their herds and, if the threat they felt grew too imminent, then they stampeded. Meredith never gave any thought as to what might’ve caused the stampede; she didn’t give anything much thought any more, except of course, her pursuit of Beverly and what they would do when finally re-united.  
As she used her long legs to cover the distance through the snow, she hummed happily to herself, reliving in her grossly disordered mind the sounds of the dying rangers.

 

Beverly regained consciousness with a cry of fear. Although her body had relaxed, on wakening she curled up tight, her arms going around her head. It took quite a few long moments before her rational mind came on line. She slowly uncurled, moaning at the many aches and pains, her hands immediately going to her lower belly, partially exposed and very cold, the vivid bruising stark against her pale skin as were the lacerations, thankfully none too deep.  
Climbing first to her knees, then unsteadily to her feet, she struggled to pull her pants all the way up and fasten them, then restore her jacket and fasten that, taking care to pull the padded and lined hood snug around her head. She knew she’d been injured but felt it was more important to try and regain some body warmth before making any assessments. Besides she was fairly certain there was nothing seriously wrong, although the baby...she sighed heavily and did what she could to put it in the back of her mind. There was nothing she could do; of more importance right now was to find Jean-Luc.  
She knew better than to call for him. If the panicked animals were still nearby, hearing her would almost certainly cause another stampede and attack. It was still snowing heavily so she was effectively blind. There were no tracks to follow; even the multitude of tracks the mereks had made had disappeared under a fresh covering of powdered snow.  
She didn’t even have any clue in which direction to go. She vaguely remembered being hoisted up and into the air, but what happened after that? No idea. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, mildly surprised to find she still wore her gloves. Giving the matter more thought, she decided to go back up the incline of the valley a little way to see if she could gauge where they were when the mereks had encountered them. It was a fair guess to assume that it was a mixture of the rut-scent on their clothing and their own urine that had begun the stampede but...something wasn’t right.   
Turning in a slow circle, Beverly tried to put her finger on it. It hit her so suddenly she gasped. “They came from behind us! Unless it was another herd...The herd we were tracking must’ve wheeled around to come up from our rear. But why?”  
Unfortunately that was going to have to remain a mystery, at least for now; her first priority was to find Jean-Luc. Now once again walking with difficulty through the deep snow downhill, she tried to stay in a straight line, not an easy task with no bearings, and cast he eyes left and right, searching for anything out-of-the-ordinary. When she felt she’d gone too far, she turned, went back up the incline, moved approximately two metres to her right and repeated her actions.   
On the next pass he moved to her left. She was counting but the ever-present cold was dulling her mind. Time slowly became a blur. Was it 15 or 16 times she’d moved down the incline and was she to move to the left this time or right? Cursing into her scarf she spun around and began to trudge back uphill. She was so tired she was finding it ever harder to lift her feet clear of the snow to take the necessary steps. When her foot caught in a lump, sending her sprawling, her patience and her tenuous hold on her emotions finally broke. She dragged herself upright and vented her pent up anger and frustration by kicking the lump as hard as she could. She didn’t realise there was something solid in it until suddenly some of the deeper snow appeared and it was stained a bright red.  
She stopped immediately and fell to her knees. “Oh, God...no...”  
Digging with her hands she uncovered Jean-Luc’s upper arm and shoulder. More red snow appeared as she moved up to uncover his head. “No, no, no, no...” She cried both as a plea and a prayer. It was hard work, but eventually she had him completely uncovered. His hat was gone as were his gloves. His lips and fingernails were a marked blue and what other bare skin she could see also had a bluish tinge. Having pulled down her scarf, which had somehow miraculously survived, she used her teeth to pull off her gloves. As she placed two fingers on his carotid artery her heart accelerated so fast she felt light headed. “Be alive, please be alive!”  
At first she detected no pulse, but she knew sometimes if the body cooled rapidly enough, it slowed everything down. The cardio-pulmonary system, metabolism, brain function, everything including the atavistic systems, those which functioned independently of conscious thought, all went into survival mode.  
So she pressed her fingers harder, hard enough to bruise and was rewarded when she felt a weak, single pulse. The urge to do something...anything was almost overwhelming, but Beverly was too good at her job. Experience had taught her to wait, to count the pulses and measure the time between each gentle beat of his heart.  
She had no tricorder, no medical equipment, no time piece and no way to see the sun to even try to gauge the passage of time, but Beverly was fairly certain no more than twenty minutes had passed before she was satisfied Jean-Luc was in a stable condition. Desperately ill but alive, his body in a kind of stasis, what was once referred to as ‘suspended animation’. She was also aware his artificial heart was playing its roll too. His body may have shut down, but that marvellous piece of technology in his chest would beat where a natural heart may have succumbed.  
Her next problem was finding shelter and getting him there. But she was determined not to be overwhelmed by the enormity of those tasks. “One thing at a time, Beverly. Cover him up first. Then look for shelter. Once you find it, then figure out how to move him. Come on, get to it!”

 

It seemed an eternity before they reached the relative, though temporary safety of the rock-strewn creek all the while expecting the deadly energy to take them down at any moment. Zeron was panting hard, the vents in her helmet emitting streams of steam when she reached the outcropping. Dropping into place nearby, Morok watched as the rest of his team found shelter.  
So much condensed air was escaping their helmets, Morok was forced to say sternly, “Come on, get a hold of yourselves! You fitter than that! That’s fear. It’ll cloud your judgement and slow your minds!”  
One at a time each team member regained control until no tell-tale condensed air was seen. Feeling everyone was calmer, Morok said quietly, “Right. I’m going to contact Vlann, but I’m not going to call her in, at least not to the drop-zone. The closest place we can make a stand is the home two point three kilometres to the north east. If we can fortify that and gain a well-defended and controlled landing zone, then, and only then, will I call her in. In the mean time, I’m going to order her to summon the defence forces. We need land and air support. I told you before, when we set foot down on the surface; I didn’t expect any of us to die defending our oath. We’re rangers, not soldiers. Our oath is to protect the wildlife of Marena yes, but not at the cost of our lives. Now we’ve already lost Hevruk and Javen. We’re not going to lose anyone else, not to some maniac armed with a VTD!”  
“So you think it’s a single person?” Asked Pimum. “Not a group?”  
“Not a group, no.” Morok shook his head. “Unless there are more and they don’t have VTDs then it’s one individual.”  
“How...?” Began Klenn, only to be cut off by Pimum.  
“The vectors of the shots.”  
“Exactly.” Said Morok sourly. “Only three shots were fired and all from the same point. Different targets, yes, but same point of origin.”   
“So this house?” Bruy said, his perpetual sniffing heard over the helmet com system. “What’s the story there? How come there’s a privately owned home within the Varr Valley Wilderness Park?”  
Morok shrugged. “I can’t tell you all that much ‘cause I don’t know all that much. All I do know is that the entire property takes up 400 hectares and whoever owns it has some pretty heavy-duty links with Starfleet.”  
“And you know that how?” Asked an angry Pimum. “‘Outside’ ownership of land on Marena was supposed to be illegal. And to know we find an ‘outsider’ not only owns a sizeable property on Marena but within a protected wilderness area...” Morok felt a ripple of anger and discontent ripple through his team.  
“Like I said, I don’t know much, but I do know the property is protected by a level 5 security system and protocol.”  
“Level 5? Shit! How the hell are we supposed to get in? And is this ‘owner’ the maniac responsible for this whole situation? ‘Cause if he is and I get my hands on him...”  
“Settle down, Bruy!” Barked Morok. “As far as I know the owner is not the one responsible and as for the level five stuff, once we bring in the military, they’ll liaise with Starfleet and we’ll be sent whatever codes are necessary to gain access.”  
There were few grumbles but the team seemed to accept Morok’s plan. He knew better than to check his heads up display but he did any way. All it showed was the three remaining herds making their way quickly down the valley.  
“Dammit!” He growled. “The mereks down valley...they’ve stampeded.”  
“Little wonder.” Remarked Klenn. “They’d know by now something deadly was hunting them.”  
“Yes, but the females...those not yet mated won’t get a chance if this situation isn’t brought under control...and fast. And with the decimation that’s already taken place...” Morok said angrily.  
“They’ll lose this season and there won’t be enough to replace this valley’s genetic stock. We’ll lose it.” Klenn’s tone was morose. “All because some nut job with a grudge against mereks went insane with a VTD. Shit!”  
“Yeah.” Morok echoed. “Shit.”  
He allowed a few minutes silence before he made the call to Vlann. 

 

The mereks, in their panicked flight had knocked down several smallish trees so it was not difficult for Beverly to find a suitable branch on which to place Jean-Luc. Although devoid of leaves, it still had enough density and width to make a suitable sled.  
Having very gently rolled her lover onto the make-shift sled, Beverly then had to decide in which direction to go. She was tempted to try and get back to the house. Even in its wrecked state it afforded shelter and there was always the possibility she could find a way to summon help. But the overriding knowledge that Meredith Bower was somewhere behind them, and probably getting closer made up her mind. No, she had to continue downhill. Besides, she was exhausted, cold and injured, the very thought of trying to drag the body-bearing branch uphill, even given the incline wasn’t all that steep was too much.  
Her mind made up, Beverly gripped the torn end of the branch, and giving the unconscious passenger one last look, took the weight and bent forward, lifting each foot out of the deep snow and placing it before repeating the action. It was her hope that once down the valley, the weather might improve and she could find some kind of shelter.   
Little did she know she had just passed an emergency summons bollard. Scattered throughout the park, these bollards could, if needed, provide an instant positional transmission which would summon immediate assistance. Although buried in the snow, those who wished to hike or walk within the park would have to register with the ranger station and would be given a compact device loaded with topographical, environmental and up-to-date meteorological information and the location of every bollard within the park. Even instructions of how to approach the wildlife for stalking and the correct way to deal with one’s own bodily waste was supplied.   
Had Beverly and Jean-Luc not been the guests of a private property within the park, they too would have has access to all this information.   
The irony was Meredith possessed all that information and more, courtesy of the Fen, but she was ignoring it. So as Beverly struggled blindly down the gentle slope she passed the one thing that could have instantly summoned help while Meredith was advancing quickly, bent solely on reaching the one thing that occupied her very existence.  
Despite her quickly waning strength and the growing cold in her body, which was slowing her both physically and mentally, Beverly still stopped regularly to check on Jean-Luc. She was encouraged to find his condition unchanged. As long as frostbite didn’t destroy too much tissue and he remained in his hypothermic, yet life-sustaining state, Beverly knew there was hope. In fact it was she who was in the greater danger, she and her baby.   
She knew she would have to rest soon and to do so she had to find some kind of shelter. But in the frigid white silence she could see nothing. Not even any trace of the long-gone herd.  
She had been struggling on, growing weaker by the minute when she quite literally walked into exactly what she needed. In her exhaustion she hadn’t noticed the snow had become less deep and the falling snow has eased. She had been staring down, concentrating fiercely on putting one foot after another. It never occurred to her that the effort involved in picking up her feet and pushing them back down through the snow had become easier.  
It was her padded head the struck the trunk of the huge tree. Shocked at coming to such an abrupt halt, she looked up in confusion, her numbed mind taking long seconds to comprehend what had happened. Then, blinking rapidly, she looked around and saw she was in a forest, much larger than the one higher up the valley. But what made her offer a prayer of thanks was the large flattened area of snow, and the now familiar plume of ferrous-smelling steam she knew indicated potable water.   
By now she also knew there would be shelter nearby. The mereks would not have stopped to drink, not as a herd, without sufficient natural protection. Dragging her laden branch closer, she smiled at seeing the horseshoe-shaped outcropping of rock with its easterly overhang, offering shelter from the falling snow and the now much gentler wind.  
Of the herd, there was nothing but the signs of recent activity. The ubiquitous piles of manure, some still vaguely warm, and the trampled snow. Obviously they had stayed only long enough to quench their thirst before moving on. Beverly didn’t have that luxury, but having found thermal water, she hoped...prayed, she would find a rock fissure or...hopefully a small cave much like the one they’d found up the valley where she could use the warmth to ease Jean-Luc’s body back to a more natural state.  
It was all very well him being in a kind of stasis, but Beverly knew he couldn’t stay like that indefinitely. Long-term damage would be done and the more extensive that damage was; the more difficult and protracted his treatment would be.  
If she could warm him slowly, it would benefit him a great deal, but he wouldn’t thank her for it as it would mean he would begin to feel the pain of his injures. And for that Beverly had no remedy. Not for either of them.

 

Meredith had noted the isolated pair of targets and smiled grimly. “So,” she said with an amused sneer. “Are you two stupid plodding animals, injured perhaps and separated from your herd or one delightful, beautiful individual and a stupid plodding, arrogant fucking captor?”  
She peered into the falling snow, seeing it was easing. “Well, whatever you are, you’re only two klicks away. I’ll find out soon enough. If you’re mereks, you’re in for a world of pain and I’m in for some fun...but if it’s you, my Beverly...and that fucker Picard, well, I’ll still have some fun, but I’ll have you! Your long wait will be over, my Beverly.”  
She quickened her pace, sensing she was near the end of her long search. “Yes...” she whispered reverently. “I’m coming, Beverly, my one and only, I’m coming.”

 

In all her years of ferrying rangers in and out of the wilderness parks throughout the vast northern land mass, Vlann had never had cause to summon the military. In fact, she had to ask the onboard computer for the correct access code to even open the appropriate channel, but the voice that responded was crisp and business-like, taking the burden off Vlann’s shoulders immediately.  
A quick five minutes passed before the disembodied voice stated, “Units 4, 5 and 8 have been deployed. ETA your position, twenty minutes.”  
Vlann gave a deep sigh of relief and replied, “Acknowledged, Central Control. Will relay, please wait for confirmation and further updates.”  
“Acknowledged. Standing by.”  
Morok was leading the two groups through the wooded area up towards the house. They went from tree to tree, their natural senses on high alert, their eyes flicking to the heads up on the helmets. The call from Vlann made Morok give the signal to halt and each member of the team melted into the background.  
Vlann responded, “The military are on their way. Three units, ETA twenty minutes to my location. Update?”  
“We’ve decided to make for the house. It’s supposed to have a level 5 security system and protocol so we’re going to need access codes. If we can get inside, we feel we can defend.”  
“Against a VTD? Are you sure?”  
Morok sighed. “Vlann, against a VTD there is no real defence, my hope is to hold out until the units arrive. Once they’re here, sheer weight of numbers should give us the advantage...I hope...to bring this maniac into custody. As far as defending the house, I’m hoping that anyone with enough pull with Starfleet to have access to a level 5 protocol has built a home that is more than merely a construct of natural materials. I mean, surely they’d beef it up?”  
“Unknown, Morok, I’m in the dark here. The military is in charge now so what do you want them to do?”  
“Rendezvous with us at the house ASAP. And get me that access code! We’re out in the open here; I want my people in some kind of defensible position and the only one available to us is that house.”  
“Understood, relaying request now. I’ll keep communications silent unless I have more for you. Probably the next communiqué will be from the officer in charge of the units.”  
“Thanks, Vlann, I...um...”  
“Yeah, me too. Vlann out.”  
Morok knew that all the eyes of his teams were on him, so he rose and gave the visual signal to move. Like ghosts the Marenas moved through the thinning forest as they began to make the climb up to the house.

 

By the time Beverly had found a suitable and accessible site to drink from, her strength was almost gone. She had taken the time to dribble quite a bit of the hot water into Jean-Luc’s mouth and, as she knew he would, he swallowed reflexively.   
She noted the colour of his bluish skin lightened a little and under her fingers, his carotid pulse grew fractionally stronger. Peering around her she knew with a sinking heart she’d have to leave him while she made a quick search for shelter. She had no option, although the water had helped revive her somewhat, she was still exhausted. If she were going to have to drag the branch with its load to anything she found, she would have to conserve what little energy she had left.  
She stood, not bothering to waste the energy in dusting off the clinging snow on her clothing and stumbled towards the rocky horseshoe. She simply couldn’t believe her luck when she spotted a small dark hole in the jumble of rocks. Hot water was running out of it, not in any great quantity, but if she could get both of them inside...  
Having reached the hole, she saw on closer inspection it had formed by the surrounding rocks jamming into a tightly packed mosaic, affording a natural tunnel. Lying flat on her stomach, she wriggled inside, knowing her clothing was waterproof. The tunnel was short, only just over two metres, then a small vaulted chamber opened up, the roof of which was open in places, allowing a tiny amount of diffused light inside. Not quite enough to see clearly, but adequate for her to see the chamber was big enough...just...to house them and the water had lifted the interior temperature significantly.  
It was perfect; all she had to do now was get Jean-Luc inside.

 

Meredith glanced at her device, more out of boredom that to actually gain any new information, but on seeing the two separate targets had halted it gave her cause to stop momentarily to think. Not rationally, of course, Meredith was way beyond that, but to weigh up the possibility of indulging in some more...fun. And then there was they very inconvenient fact she was actually growing hungry.  
Her body had been so radically altered everything about her was different, including her metabolism. Yet she was still tied to the inescapable fact that her body required sustenance. So she slid her hand into her jacket and caressed the handle of her knife.  
“Fresh merek meat.” She smiled grimly. “The stupid thing’ll stink, but the meat won’t. And I’ll have the pleasure of slitting first its throat then its belly. Oh...the snow will look so pretty all red.” She then frowned. “Red? No...there’s something about them...” She shrugged and began to walk again. “Who gives a fuck? As long as they die badly and taste good.”  
She was only seven hundred metres away from Beverly and Jean-Luc.

 

The three lightly armed flyers swooped low, the pilots using a visual inspection to confirm what their instruments had already told them. The house was unoccupied and had suffered internal damage, but nothing structural.  
Using a prearranged and well-practiced manoeuvre, the three craft peeled off and settled quickly, disgorging their passengers with smooth proficiency before rising silently from the snow-covered ground to take up sentry duty high above. The three units, each comprising eight Marenan military members immediately activated their adaptive camouflage and blended into the surrounding terrain as they circled the house.   
Using a highly encrypted and short-range communicator, the overall leader contacted Morok.  
“We have the house surrounded and under surveillance. We detect no occupants and thermal reading show no one has been here in some time...several hours at least.”  
“Acknowledged. You have the access code?”  
“Affirmative.”  
Morok looked at his team, only visible to him through the special material of the helmet’s faceplate and nodded.  
“We’re ready. Once you’ve secured the building, we’ll come in.”  
“Acknowledged.”  
Using hand signals, Morok passed on the information to his team. He knew the wait would be a short one, but the tension was uncomfortable to say the least. He saw the physical manifestations of this in his team, prompting him to say quietly over their comm system, “Settle down, it won’t be long now.”  
“Yeah,” Bruy said bitterly. “We sit tight while the military make sure everything’s safe-and-sound so we can be nice and comfy as we await the arrival of some demented fruitcake with a VTD! Morok, I respect you...I’ll follow you, but you know as well as we do that house isn’t going to be defensible! Not against a VTD! It wouldn’t matter if the entire Marenan military were here, unless the maniac is taken down, we’re in for a load of shit!”  
Morok turned his head in the direction of the disgruntled ranger and said calmly, “All right, Bruy what would you suggest we do?”  
There was a tense silence before Bruy said grimly. “Go on the front foot. Be proactive! Hunt the bastard down. Look, Morok, there’s enough of us now. With the military...and their weapons surely we could...eliminate whoever it is?”  
“And violate the very essence of Marenan law?” Morok said questionably. “Don’t you think that would make us as bad...or mad as the one who’s perpetrated these outrages? Marenans do not kill! Not unless we absolutely have to, you know that Bruy.”  
Everyone on the team heard the derision in Bruy’s voice as he said, “And I suppose the military is armed with water pistols?”  
“Of course not!” Morok was rapidly losing patience. Bruy had always carried a thirst for what he described as ‘action’. “I’m quite certain they will be armed with the weapons appropriate for the situation.”  
“Oh, of course.” Bruy said snidely. “We have weapons that are effective against someone with a VTD! Do think we’re stupid? Anyone with half a brain would know that a sniper, armed with a VTD could not only pick off each and every one of us and the military teams, but completely destroy the house, right down to its foundations! And very quickly. You want somewhere defensible? Then we need to get out of here! Either that or we hunt them down and kill them!”  
Seeing his team shifting restlessly as each member considered the argument, Morok said quietly, “No, Bruy, that’s not the answer. If we give in to blood-lust we’re lowering ourselves back to that of predators, something we have not been for a very long time. Look around you, Bruy. Do you think Marena would be the paradise it is today if our people had not changed...learned the value of being ecologically responsible?” He sighed deeply. “Look, I...we...don’t know how many beings we’re dealing with, but I do know there’s only one VTD. We isolate that and render the shooter incapable and the situation is over. Then it’s just mopping up, and that’s only if there’s more than one...unhinged being involved. And, Bruy? Don’t you think you’d be better served devoting some thought to how we’re going to redress the problem of the decimated mereks? Never forget you’re a ranger. That carries a lot of responsibility and as I know you’re well aware, a certain amount of prestige.”  
The implication of vanity made Bruy’s face glow, raising the temperature in his climate-controlled helmet. But it was Morok’s last comment that defeated him and brought the rest of the team back to their correct mindset.  
“If you really do want ‘action’ Bruy, you should’ve joined the military, not the ranger service.”  
There ensued a few minutes while the team waited for the all clear from the units. Just before the call came, Bruy said with a trace of self depreciation, “Well, I admit I might’ve found some of our work a little dull, I mean the most dangerous thing we ever encounter is the occasional bad tempered volon, still, long fangs and sharp claws I can deal with. But a volon with a VTD? Now that’s an eyebrow raiser!”  
A soft smattering of chuckles rippled across the comm system, making Morok smile, but just as he was about to gently remind his team to be quiet, the call came from the units’ leader.  
“Building secure. You may enter through the main door, situated at the front of the building. We have fortified it and you will have excellent cover from us.”  
“Acknowledged.” Morok rose from his crouch and made a sweeping movement with his arm. “Move in, pattern delta at five second increments. “I’ll lead....Bruy...”  
“I know; I’ll bring up the rear. Don’t worry; I’ve got your backs.”  
No one said anything, they didn’t have to. The team moved out of the wooded area and crested the top of the incline, but what Morok saw made him give the silent ‘drop’ signal. He contacted the unit leader immediately and opened his comm system so his team could be privy to what was said.  
“Unit leader, that forecourt is a killing field! Why is it clear like that?”  
“The owner utilised the natural flow of air off the surrounding mountains and augmented it with vaporising technology. The result is that the forecourt is permanently clear, no matter what the weather.”  
“So we have snow cover, both on the ground and falling until we hit that damned open and glaringly clear space?”  
“Yes, but I can assure you there are no, I repeat, no hostile targets within range, specifically within range of a VTD. You are safe to cross.”  
Morok spent several angry seconds in thought before he opened a channel. “Right, you heard him. Keep a low profile and jink! Once I go, you know the drill and the order of procession. Five seconds!” He took a deep breath. “I trust our military, but for what it’s worth...Good luck!”  
Morok broke cover and, keeping low, zigzagged out of the falling snow and into the starkly clear forecourt. He literally burst into the house, turning in one fluid motion and taking up a defensive position so he could see his team traverse the same ground.  
Thirty-five seconds later, the entire team was in the house. Whether or not they were safe was pure speculation.

 

As Beverly was struggling to drag Jean-Luc into the tunnel, Meredith consulted her device again. She had been concentrating on making her approach to the targets, she exuded no scent, but she wished to make use of the available cover to get as close as possible to the targets for if they were indeed mereks, unless they were injured, they would bolt at the first sign of her stalking.  
What she’d been ignoring or simply chose not to hear was the soft chiming her device had been making for some minutes. It wasn’t until she actually took it out of her pocket and glanced at it that she saw what it had been trying to tell her.

“What the fuck?” Meredith scowled at the screen. “What the hell is going on there?”  
Multiple targets were now displayed in and around the house. Although she couldn’t identify what she was seeing, it was obviously not an indigenous animal herd.   
“Not unless they’ve taken to living in houses and setting up sentry points.” She sneered. “Well, it seems the bar has been raised.” She hefted the VTD and grinned insanely. “Oh...I could have a field-day! And a humanoid would make a much more satisfying show of dying than some stupid, braying merek.” She sighed with contentment then gave the device another look. “Still, first things first. I’ll investigate these targets, eat as much as I need to, then make my way back to the house. I think you’re there, Beverly. I think that fucker, Picard has somehow summoned help...lot of good it’ll do. “She snorted, a cloud of steam streaming from her nose.”I wonder what Beverly will think when I vaporise all those Marenans for her? Will their death cries excite her as they do me? Should I give her the ultimate gift...the killing of Picard? Oh!” Meredith grinned, her other-worldly eyes gleaming. “So many questions! I can’t wait to discover the answers.”

 

Liam Dogovich studied the monitor intently, a frown creasing his already lined brow. His hand reached for and took the frosty glass of beer and guided it to his mouth where he took a hefty swallow before placing it back within the tightly grouped pattern of wet circles on his desktop. His eyes had never left the screen.   
“Come on, Jean-Luc...where are you?”  
Although their rendezvous at the Blue Parrott Cafe wasn’t for another 24 hours, Liam knew he should’ve been able to track his special flitter’s flight path. The journey was significant, Marena was a fair distance away, but with the craft’s augmentation, Liam knew that the three-day travel time was well within its capabilities and with that in mind, the tall, lean man couldn’t understand why he couldn’t find any trace of the craft.  
That left him with only one alternative, and it was one he was loath to take. Communication. Even with the newly initiated level seven protocols, he knew there was always the chance, albeit remote, that someone may have cracked it. The very fact it was in use made it vulnerable in its own way. Once word got out, and that usually happened with remarkable speed, any individual or group with a grudge against the Federation or Starfleet or even an single individual would begin immediately to find a way to break the new level. It may take days, weeks, sometimes years, but eventually someone, somewhere would get in. The question was...had that already occurred.  
Liam wanted to think no, it hadn’t, at least he hoped that was the case. Level seven had only been in existence a short while and used rarely, for the exact reason he’d been mulling over...and yet...He sat back, again reaching automatically for his beer. While one hand tapped a devil’s dance, the other guided the glass to his mouth. He took two long swallows, put the glass down and lifted the other hand to resume chewing on what little remained of his fingernail.  
“So...if you’re not on your way, mate, where the hell are you?”  
Turning his head slightly to one side, Liam spat a miniscule sliver of nail onto the floor. He sat forward and pursed his lips, the silvery stubble of his cheeks catching the light from overhead.  
“Time, I think, to have a little chat with the Marenan authorities.”  
Just as he was about to issue the vocal command to his computer, an incoming message cancelled the process. Seeing the sender’s authorisation code and the level of security, Liam’s ingrained senses went on full alert.  
Five minutes later he was heading to the transporter pad within his building while issuing instructions to the hangar crew for an unscheduled launch of his private craft. Once climbing upwards and clearing the atmosphere, he initiated contact with the Marenan military.

 

The way Meredith glided from tree to tree was remarkable given her size, but with her body mass, she possessed an elegance and grace of movement, able to become almost fluid in her actions. Although there was little in the way of a breeze, Meredith had picked up the slightest of zephyrs and was making use of it to approach the targets from downwind.   
Only one hundred metres from their position, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. Flat wide nostrils flaring, she lifted her head and drew in a long breath, then expelled it to make a series of short inhalations. Her expression changed from concentration to absolute delight.  
“No mereks! Not now, before, yes....an hour or more...but not now. It’s you, Beverly my love, you and that pile of shit, Picard! I’ve finally found you!”  
No longer bothering to stalk, Meredith broke cover and strode boldly through the snow, her insane grin a rictus on her face. She covered the distance quickly and again sniffed the air as she got closer. “Human blood!” She exclaimed worriedly. “Are you hurt, my lovely?”  
Quickening her long strides she reached the horseshoe of rock in mere minutes.

 

It had taken everything Beverly had left to get Jean-Luc inside the little rocky pocket. At first all she could do was lie beside him, panting and sipping the hot water that flowed in a small runnel across the uneven rock floor.  
Then, slowly she coaxed her stiff hands and arms into action and began to open Jean-Luc’s clothing. Her intention was to do the same and use her body heat and their clothing to make an attempt to raise his temperature. Just as she was struggling to ease his coat off his shoulders a chilling voice made her cease all movement. Although it wasn’t the voice she remembered, Beverly knew exactly who it was.  
“Beverly! Beverly my sweet love! I am here...I have finally come for you; your long wait is over. Come out; come out to me, Beverly.”  
Panic seized the doctor. She looked at Jean-Luc in the gloom and knew without a shadow of doubt if she didn’t find some way to negotiate for his well being, Meredith would kill him without so much as a hint of remorse. In fact she’d enjoy it. But how does one negotiate with the insane?  
Before Beverly could even begin to find the right words, Meredith spoke again and this time her impatience was clear.  
“Beverly, I haven’t got all day. We have things to do...important things and they can’t be done standing around in the fucking snow on this fucking ice-ball of a planet! Now get your arse into gear and get yourself out of that fucking hole!”  
Scrambling to find a way to buy some time, Beverly called out, “I can’t.”  
“Why the fuck not!” Meredith shouted. Then her tone changed. It was at once honeyed and at the same time deadly. “Are you being held captive, Beverly my love?”  
“No, it’s just that...”  
“Picard,” Meredith said with chilling venom. “Let her go and I’ll kill you quickly. Resist and I’ll make you pay. Believe me, I’ll make you pay.”  
“There’s no need for that!” Beverly called urgently. “I’m not being held captive.”  
“Then come out!” Meredith yelled. “Beverly, I love you, you know that, but my patience has its limits! I’ve already told you we have important things to do. Now come on! Get yourself out of that fucking hole!”  
“I can’t.” Beverly said weakly. She was going to say more when Meredith said with flat calm,   
“I have in my hand a Varon T disruptor. How long do you think it would take me to destroy the rock around you until you were sitting there among the rubble?”  
Sounding a lot calmer than she felt, Beverly said mildly, “There’s no need for that, Meredith. I’ll come out, but I’m going to be bringing Captain Picard with me.”  
“What?!” Meredith almost screeched. “NO! You leave that fucking pile of shit right where he is!”  
“I can’t do that, Meredith, he’s hurt.”  
“So? He’ll be a hell of a lot more than ‘hurt’ if you bring him out!”  
“Meredith, you love me, don’t you?”  
“Yes.” The madwoman replied warily.  
“Then you want me to have whatever I wish?”  
“That’s me! You and me...together.”  
“Yes,” agreed Beverly patiently. “But I’m a Doctor, Meredith and I swore an oath. I can’t abandon someone who needs help.”  
“Fine!” Meredith said cheerfully. “Then I’ll remove your ...obligation. You bring him out, and I’ll kill him. Easy! Problem solved!.”  
“It doesn’t work like that, Meredith. Knowing that you intend to kill the Captain if I bring him out would make me responsible and that would violate my oath.”  
Meredith was seething. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Beverly should’ve welcomed her, both as her rescuer and her lover. Her saviour. Why was she behaving like this?  
“Meredith?” Beverly called cautiously. “If you let me bring the Captain, let me treat him, I’ll do whatever you want.”  
In a cold, menacing tone, Meredith replied, “You’ll do that anyway, Beverly.”  
“True, but wouldn’t it be nicer if I was...willing?”  
“You would be anyway! You love me!”  
“Yes, but if you won’t let me have the Captain to...keep...then I’d feel you weren’t doing all you could to please me.”  
Her wide mouth agape, Meredith shook her head.  
“That’s not true! I would do anything for you...you know that!”  
With her painfully stiff fingers crossed, Beverly said calmly, “Then let me keep him.”  
“WHY?!” Meredith screamed in frustration.  
“Because he...amuses me.”  
It her grossly disordered mind, that one explanation made sense. Meredith’s rage-contorted face settled into soft sentimentality.  
“Oh, Beverly. You are a minx! Of course you can keep him.”  
Just as Beverly began the arduous task of wriggling out backwards while dragging Jean-Luc’s inert body with her, she heard Meredith say, “I can kill him anytime. After all, you’re bound to get bored with him eventually. It’ll be something we can both look forward to.”

There was an audible scratching sound as Liam dragged his fingers through the stubble on his slightly hollow cheek. The woman on the screen in front of him had a cold look; her eyes barely hid the anger which seethed just under the surface. In measured tones, the woman said quietly, but with chilly intent,  
“What you ask is completely unacceptable! I can’t see how you could even make the request.”  
Shrugging, Liam wasn’t fazed by her reaction, he’d dealt with her and others like her before and no doubt, would again. His ace-in-the-hole was his indispensability. Not only was he the best at what he did, he carried in his head many things the Federation Council hierarchy would rather he not make public. Not that he’d even so much as hinted he would, but even the danger of his capture by an enemy put the council in a very awkward position. Liam Dogovich was a loner, not just as a personal preference, but as an operative. For him to baldly ask for a contingent of black ops to accompany him on a mission he was sharing little by way of information on was not only unheard of, but completely at odds with the way the council liked to ‘handle’ the tasks they gave him.  
He went where angles feared to tread. Never actually making it clear who it was he worked for, Liam inserted himself into situations where he could...’fix’...things and because he just happened to have an unshakable belief in what the Federation represented, at least as a philosophy if not in actuality, he could do things on an informal basis that the council sometimes could not.  
Since ‘unoffically’ leaving Starfleet many years previous, yet maintaining the rank of commodore, he’d built an unimpeachable reputation for loyalty and the ability to ‘get the job done’. So as he returned the woman’s cold stare with equanimity, he knew without a shadow of doubt, he would get his way. Her reaction was window dressing, a process that he occasionally had to go through to smooth feathers. He smiled to himself, furnishing the appropriate phrase. “Going through the motions.”   
But he was growing weary of these little byplays, rare though they were. He had dealt with too many alien species in far too many potentially lethal situations to be the least perturbed by the woman’s attempt to exert any form of superiority over him. And what was making him increasingly irritated was that they both knew there was only one person he answered to and that wasn’t the woman on the screen. And there was one more thing. The very mention of one of the two names he’d given should’ve been enough to grant him his request. That it hadn’t angered him and made him that much more determined to get what he wanted.  
He realised the woman was speaking. “You haven’t requested assistance before. You’re a lone operative. That’s your strength.”  
He shrugged again and greatly annoyed the women by casually picking up his glass and taking two long swallows. Running his tongue along his upper lip, he let out a soft ‘ah’ of appreciation.  
“Well,” he said quietly. “Not this time. We....and yes, that means the council too, are dealing with something out-of-the-ordinary here and it involves more than I can handle on my own. And,” he said, leaning forward lightly for emphasis. “If you won’t come to the party and they die...especially Captain Picard, and it....gets out...that the council refused to permit assistance to recover Starfleet’s most illustrious Captain...” He sat back and spread his hands. “I wouldn’t think that’d go down too well. Not with the Federation President or the people. They do like their heroes....the people...”  
The woman’s eyes became even more gimlet-like. “Are you trying to blackmail us?”  
Liam’s smile was broad, but his eyes were cold. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call it blackmail, exactly.”  
“What then?”  
“Incentive?” Liam’s eyebrows rose.  
“Semantics!” the woman spat.  
Suddenly at the end of his patience, Liam lost all trace of humour, feigned or otherwise. In his eyes was the hint of the cold-blooded and ruthless killer he could be, if the need arose.  
“Look, I don’t care what you think or what objections you have. I’m leaving in one hour and accompanying me will be two units of black ops members.”  
The woman sat and stared implacably back, showing no emotion. Liam was about to terminate the channel when he said quietly, “And of course we’ll be using two of the new...craft.” He sent the smouldering woman a jaunty grin, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Dogovich out.”  
He knew what he’d just done was going to cause a huge flurry of action behind the scenes, but he dismissed it from his mind. With single minded devotion, he continued the preparations already in progress. The call he’d just ended was a formality, he was going to get his way in any event, he was merely paying lip service, but it still annoyed him that he should have to do so.   
“We’ve both given you a life time of service,” He grumbled. “Jean-Luc and me...what more do you want? You owe him!” Then softer... “You owe both of us.” He stopped what he was doing and turned to gaze sightlessly out of the window, ignoring the fact it was sleeting, London’s buildings all but obscured. “All of us who serve...you owe us all.” Then silently, “Fucking politicians!”  
True to his word, an hour later, two craft which seemingly didn’t actually exist, at least not officially, left a small, nondescript orbital station and simply disappeared. Vessels were forbidden to go to warp anywhere within the Sol system, in fact even full impulse was frowned upon, yet these two craft not only vanished, but left the station at a speed not measured by warp factors. And they did so as they exited the station. To the monitoring sensors, two unidentified microsecond ‘blips’ would’ve registered. Nothing else.   
As Liam sat back in the single cockpit seat, he smiled at the thought of the computers trying to work that one out. Eventually they’d come up with something close to the mark, but by then, Liam and his crew would be far, far away. He looked at the blackness of space, their method of propulsion such as the stars themselves were invisible as the passed. He sighed, a lopsided grin in place as he mumbled around his mangled, almost nonexistent fingernail,  
“Well, Jean-Luc,” He said softly. “You and Beverly have got yourselves in trouble. Fair enough, that happens. But from what I’ve heard, this is a little out-of-the-ordinary and the fact the Marenans are involved...well, I think it’s time I stuck my nose in. We may have some explaining to do afterwards, but it’s not as if we haven’t had that happen before, eh, mate?”  
In the aft section of the utilitarian craft sat four beings. Their species could’ve been anything as they were all uniformly clad in adaptive camouflage suits which covered them from head-to-toe. In the interior of the vessel, they blended in with the walls and the seats. To the naked eye, they were invisible. Covering the outer surface of Liam’s eyes were two specially adapted lenses. He could see his crew; in fact he could see a lot more than normal human eyes could. He blinked several times, distributing the special tears he produced from his lachrymal ducts. Glancing at the small mirror to his left he checked his crew. He then directed his attention to the screen on the minimalist console in front of him. Precisely one hundred kilometres to starboard, a sister ship, identical in every way, carrying another four beings faithfully kept pace. He had briefed the crews. They were primed and ready. All they needed now was to be set loose.

 

Just as Beverly’s body fully emerged from the rock hole, two strong hands grabbed her under her outstretched arms and hoisted her so violently; her grip on Jean-Luc was torn free.  
Before she could say anything but a yelp of pain and surprise, Meredith spun her around, wrapped one huge hand behind her head and cupped her chin with the other. Their faces close, Beverly got a glimpse of the frighteningly altered woman before she was brought forward and kissed. Beverly closed her eyes, the sight of Meredith’s unnatural, terrifying eyes enough to so unnerve Beverly that she was momentarily shocked senseless. Unfortunately, Meredith took this as Beverly willingly giving herself to her. The prehensile tongue pressed hard against Beverly’s clamped shut lips and teeth, but as the pressure grew, Beverly vaguely knew if she didn’t allow it into her mouth, it would split her lips and break her teeth.   
Operating on self-preservation, Beverly opened her mouth, but not before her upper lip had been slightly split. The taste of blood seemed to inflame Meredith even more. She let go of Beverly’s chin and slid her hand inside the doctor’s pants. That broke the daze Beverly had fallen into. She made a sound of protest into Meredith’s mouth, but as before, the insane woman misinterpreted it as an expression of passion. The kiss intensified, making Beverly want to gag, Meredith’s tongue was going too far into Beverly’s mouth.  
But when the woman’s long, powerful fingers probed and slid through Beverly’s sex, she tried to pull free. Still kissing the red head with heated ardour, Meredith chuckled and let go of her Beverly’s head to grab her hand. She guided it into her own pants, easily overcoming Beverly’s attempts to wrest her hand from the woman’s vice-like grip.  
Suddenly the tongue was withdrawn from Beverly’s mouth and Meredith’s mouth was nuzzling under her ear. “I know we both want so much more, my lovely one, but this will have to do for now. Pleasure me, my Beverly, as I pleasure you.”  
When Beverly’s hand was placed on the engorged and erect clitoris, she was confused, not knowing what it was. But as Meredith guided her hand in an unmistakable sliding rhythm, Beverly had no choice but to comply. Even the fact the...organ...was lubricated confused the doctor. But she had little time for speculation. Meredith’s mouth descended on hers again and that disgusting tongue, vile to Beverly but something she was unable to deny entry, invaded her mouth again.   
While Meredith’s insistent fingers probed and rubbed Beverly’s intimate areas, she intensified the kiss then inhaled deeply, holding her breath before letting it out slowly. It was only then that Beverly realised the woman had orgasmed.  
When she pulled back slightly, Beverly was relieved to see her eyes were closed. But her relief was short lived. Those eerie, unnatural eyes opened and pinned Beverly like an insect to a board.  
“You’re not wet, Beverly...my love.” There was a not-too-subtle trace of threat in the softly worded statement. The doctor knew her life...and Jean-Luc’s rested on what she said next. Yes, Meredith had declared her love for Beverly, and was totally obsessed with her, but she was also insane and therefore utterly unpredictable.  
Raising her free hand, (the other was still gripping the still-stiff clitoris), Beverly softened her gaze and smiled apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Meredith...my love...it’s just that I’m very tired, cold, hungry...in pain...” She leaned forward slightly and kissed Meredith’s cheek. “Before I can really enjoy our love, I have to be comfortable and relaxed. Surely you understand?”  
Meredith stared into Beverly’s eyes, and the doctor had to suppress a shudder of revulsion and fear. As quickly as she’d become so terrifyingly threatening, she changed to a happy, smiling and compassionate lover.  
“Of course, my lovely. You’ve been through a lot.” She withdrew her hand and Beverly wished she could close her eyes as Meredith sucked her fingers with obvious pleasure. “You taste divine, Beverly, just as I knew you would.” She took Beverly’s hand out of her pants and began to walk away. “Come, my heart. We have much to do.”  
“Wait!” Called Beverly urgently. “What about Jean...the Captain?”  
Meredith came to an abrupt halt and stood motionless for a few long seconds. She then turned slowly and the demented ferocity was back in her glittering, pale blue eyes. “What about him?”   
Her tone clearly showed she cared absolutely nothing for Jean-Luc, other than how to kill him in a way that would amuse her and afford Jean-Luc the most agony. With fear so great Beverly’s bowel loosened, she nevertheless found the courage to say, “You said I could keep him. He has to come too.”  
Again, like a chameleon changing colours, Meredith switched. The smile was back. “Oh, Beverly...you do like you’re little games, don’t you. Very well, he can come.”  
Keeping hold of Beverly’s hand, the woman went the few steps necessary to take her to the rock hole, bent and reached in grabbing the collar of Jean-Luc’s coat. She then unceremoniously dragged him outside and proceeded to stride off through the snow, Beverly on one side, being pulled along by her hand, Jean-Luc in the other, his inert body leaving a smear of blood on the pristine surface of the snow.  
They had only traversed about 500 metres when a soft chiming brought an annoyed Meredith to a halt. Uncaringly she dropped Jean-Luc, causing Beverly to close her eyes in worry and sympathy, her only solace was that he was deeply unconscious and unfeeling.  
Digging in her coat pocket a scowling Meredith retrieved a small device and studied it for a moment before directing her weird eyes off into the distance. Beverly knew that was where the house lay, but as to how far...she could only come up with a rough estimate. Eight....nine kilometres? How far had they followed the herd? She knew they had come down a fair way, the change in the thickness of the forest and the lessening of the snowfall told her that, but it was so hard to judge. Tentatively, Beverly said,  
“Where are we going?” Although she was fairly sure she knew the answer. Meredith confirmed it.  
“To the house.” But then she looked at the device again and sneered. “Then again...”  
Beverly wanted to ask so much, but dealing with an insane individual was always perilous. One wrong word, one misperceived intention and certainly Lean-Luc’s life would be forfeited, and even Beverly, the sole raison d’etre of Meredith’s being, could be...Beverly shuddered then had to cover the action as Meredith gave her a hard look.  
“Cold.” To accentuate the word, Beverly wrapped her free hand around her chest and hunched her shoulders, the condensed air steaming out of her mouth and nostrils as she blew out a long breath. “Freezing, in fact.” She grinned.  
Meredith grunted, then bent to grab Jean-Luc’s collar again. “Come on, Beverly. Time we had some well-earned fun.”  
The implied violence in those otherwise innocuous words chilled Beverly far more than the temperature. They walked in silence for a while, the uphill slog not bothering Meredith one iota before Beverly asked quietly, “What do you mean by ‘fun’, Meredith?”  
Turning to grace Beverly with her dreadful eyes, the woman’s face split into a hideous grin, showing her large square, gleaming white teeth. The overall effect was the most horrendously grotesque thing Beverly had ever seen.  
“Oh, my sweet Beverly...we are going to have such fun! There are, at present, a number of little Marenans scurrying about, some holed up in the house. They think...” she giggled dementedly, “....they think they can withstand the not so gentle ministrations of my VTD! The fun is when I pick them off. Oh! The sound they make! It’s enough to make me come!”  
She sighed contentedly. “Anyway, once they’re all gone we can take the time to see to your injuries, warm you up and get something for you to eat...then my sweet Beverly, we can make love...for hours. Do you know...” she said with obvious excitement. “I can come in one long orgasm for as long as I want? I’ll teach you! Beverly, my Goddess...we will live in ecstasy, hour upon hour subsumed and exalted by our love!”  
“And...” Beverly swallowed, her free hand going protectively to her belly, happily unnoticed by Meredith. “...all this will take place at the house?”  
Rolling her freakish eyes, Meredith shook her head. “Beverly,” she said with playful reproach. “You know we’re not staying on this stupid ice-ball of a planet! We have our fun disposing of the Marenans, spend some time making love...after all we have waited a very long time...then I’ll take you to some very special people who make you as beautiful as me...” Her face changed to show serious compassion. “It’s not your fault you’re not as beautiful as me. For a human female you’re unsurpassed for beauty, but compared to me...” she pulled down the corners of her wide mouth and shrugged. “Well, there’s really no comparison, is there. And then there’s your intellect. That’s going to have to be raised quite a bit I’m afraid. For us to be a real couple, we have to be equals and at the moment...” she sighed. “But it’s okay, I’ll look after you and once you’re like me, I’ll take you home and we can begin our lives together as superior, evolved beings who will exist only for each other in a perpetual state of ecstasy.”  
Beverly thought it wise to not say anything, so she just smiled with what she could only hope looked like enthusiasm. They began to walk again, Beverly having to struggle to keep up with Meredith’s long strides and Jean-Luc’s body leaving a blood-stained shallow furrow in the snow. 

 

It was the unit leader whose scanner picked up the approaching trio. She checked the life signs, frowning as one of them gave little by way of a reading. The other two were typical. One showed injuries and an unconscious state, the other also injured, but not badly. It was the third target that was confusing both the scanner and the unit leader.  
Using signals of muted shades of grey, the unit leader summoned her 2IC. It was only when her natural senses picked him up that she knew he was almost by her side. Her adaptive camouflage suit confirmed his presence by emitting a slight vibration. In silence she proffered the scanner. Her second in command spent several long moments studying it and referring to his own device before he opened a very discreet channel between them. It only worked at very close range and was totally selective.  
“All right, you’ve got me. The two that register...they’re human, one male and one female. The male has some nasty injuries and is unconscious. What the humans call ‘frostbite’ has taken hold in his extremities, especially his toes. The female is also injured, but not so badly. She’s conscious and mobile. But the third...I can’t get a solid fix. I can’t even tell what species it is. As soon as I think I’ve got a lock, it ghosts...it’s as if the third target isn’t there, like it’s some kind of echo.” The unit leader sensed her companion sigh. “If it wasn’t for the fact your scanner is giving the same readings...I’d say it was a glitch of some kind...a technical snafu.”  
“This is no snafu.” The unit leader growled, holding up her scanner. “Whatever that third target is, it’s responsible for transporting the unconscious male...the female couldn’t do it...so the male is either being carried or dragged. And judging by the speed at which they’re approaching...the third target can’t be human.”  
“So you think the female is being assisted too?”  
“Probably and using the third target’s passage through the snow as a track to follow. Whatever it is, it seems to be forging ahead, the two humans, one probably dragged and the other trailing along.”  
The 2IC grunted softly. “That’s consistent with what little we can see. If you assume the third target is in the lead, then we have an arrowhead formation.”  
“Uh huh. And at their present rate of progress, they should be within range of our sentries in approximately one hour...perhaps less.”  
“Our intel suggests the two humans are not responsible for the merek slaughter. It would seem they were the guests of the absent owner of the house. The head ranger, Morok, has informed me he believes there was only one individual responsible...at the very least it would appear there’s only one VTD.”  
“Only one VDT?” The unit leader said sarcastically. “As if we weren’t in enough trouble with just one?”  
“I understand, ma’am, but if the two humans had no part in the slaughter, then we may be looking at a hostage situation.”  
The unit leader lowered her helmeted head and sighed.  
“Your ears only, Krav. The male is a Starfleet Captain...the female his CMO.”  
“Oh, shit!” Krav said with feeling. “So this business with the house and all this land being owned by an outsider and protected with a level of Starfleet security we weren’t aware existed...What’s going on, Helis?”  
“I don’t know. I was provided with the code to access the house and precious little else. I only found out about the humans about half an hour ago...and yes Krav, you’re most probably right. This looks like a hostage situation.”  
“And the hostage taker is armed with a VTD. Lovely.” He took a few calming breaths then asked, “All right, we’re at the pointy end. Is Starfleet going to give us any help?”  
“Apparently, yes. My most recent update from central, informs me that a ‘team’ is en route.”  
“That’s it?” Krav said in exasperation. “And just what are we supposed to do in the meantime? A VTD has a greater range than any of our hand-held weapons. That ‘third target’ could pick us off at random. Even if we took up defensive positions inside the house, a VTD could destroy the house and us and the rangers with it!” He shook his head and Helis knew he wanted to spit, a Marenan custom indicating anger and frustration. “We’re in a no-win situation here, Helis!”  
“I know.” She replied softly. “But we didn’t join the military thinking it was going to be a safe career.”  
She placed a reassuring hand on the taller male’s shoulder. “Look, we’ve got some time up our sleeves. It may well be that our superior natural senses just might win out where all our technology can’t. Contact our sentries. Tell them to use our technology minimally, urge them to rely more on their own senses. This...” She gestured at the surrounding landscape. “Is our land. Marena. And we are born to it, Krav. We may be civilised...evolved...but inside us is all we need to survive here and that includes the ability to avoid prey and yes...to hunt. I’ll be damned if some outsider is going to get the better of us! Pass the word, Krav. We are going to hold our ground!”  
She couldn’t see his wolfish grin, but the firm punch to her shoulder said more than words could. Krav moved off, blending seamlessly into the falling snow. Helis turned and looked out wondering if she’d not been a little too overconfident. It was one thing to bolster morale, but lurking in the forefront of her mind was one inescapable fact. The VTD.  
She sighed and looked at her scanner again. The trio were coming, moving inexorably closer.

Liam was dozing, his long skinny legs stretched out, his crossed feet jammed into one side of the console in front of him. Although his eyes were closed and he was in a semi-sleep state, he was still aware. In his line of work it never paid to sleep too soundly. So when the soft chirrup came from the computer his eyes snapped open immediately and in one fluid movement, he’d pulled his feet down and moved forward in his seat. He didn’t even have to blink as he read the information on the console.  
Looking up at the mirror he gave a short nod to the being closest to him.  
“ETA Marena five hours.”  
The being said nothing, but acknowledged the report with a nod. Liam checked a few things them settled back, adopting his former position. As his eyes closed he laced his fingers on his stomach and thought, “Hang in there, Jean-Luc, we’re coming.”

 

The silence was becoming too much for Beverly. It wasn’t the surrounding silence of the falling snow, that she had always found quite lovely...no, it was what the silence implied. Beverly knew her life and that of Jean-Luc’s were in the hands of an insane individual who vacillated between loving kindness, coquettish flirting and ruthless, cold-blooded violence. Beverly felt she may have a chance of surviving, provided she conformed to what Meredith wanted from her, but Jean-Luc? She despaired she would be able to continue to protect him from Meredith.  
Her complete disdain for him was obvious, but Beverly knew the mad woman’s feelings for Jean-Luc went much deeper than that and none of those feeling were even remotely compassionate. No, Meredith Bower hated Jean-Luc, hated him with such depth of passion, Beverly had no doubt whatsoever that given the slightest of reasons...or more likely no reason at all, Meredith would murder Jean-Luc and probably in a way as to make it as protracted and painful as possible.  
Somehow, Beverly thought, Meredith’s mind had divided into two separate thought processes. One half attributed everything positive, pleasurable and ‘happy’ to her obsession with Beverly and her unshakable belief that Beverly shared all these feeling with her. The other half...all the negative, ferociously angry and cruel attributes she placed squarely at Jean-Luc’s feet. In Meredith’s grossly disordered mind, Jean-Luc was to blame for every single thing that Meredith didn’t like. Of course that made no sense, not to a sane person, but Meredith Bower was so far from sane, Beverly wondered if a new term should be coined to describe her condition.   
The snowfall was increasing as they worked their way back up the valley. The Marenan military members had been correct. Meredith strode ahead, shoving her legs through the snow. She held tightly to Beverly’s hand, pulling the sometimes stumbling doctor along in the path she made and to one side she dragged Jean-Luc’s inert body, his weight distributed so that it made only a slight indentation in the snow. But the silence...Beverly had been frightened before, many times, but in nearly all of those instances she had the fortunate ability to be able to do something, if not to directly affect what was causing the fear, but at least to contribute in some way to assist those affected by it. She thought back and it was with a sinking feeling that the last time she felt terrible fear mixed with hopelessness and heartache was when her beloved Jean-Luc had been taken then assimilated by the Borg. She recalled when she saw him on the Borg ship...as Locutus...and later, after they’d ‘rescued’ him...still Locutus and connected to the collective. All had seemed lost. Earth, humankind...and Jean-Luc. In fact if they couldn’t defeat the Borg; that meant Jean-Luc would be forever trapped as that repulsive automaton, the very antithesis of her gentle and loving Jean-Luc Picard. Her own death or assimilation seemed abstract by comparison. At least a Borg drone was unaware of its former self. But after she’d been able to restore him, he had confessed he remembered everything. Not only the atrocities he helped the Borg commit as Locutus, but all the while railing against them, helplessly ignored.   
The knowledge of what he’d done and the subsumption he endured almost cost him his sanity. It took an immense effort by Deanna and Beverly to bring him back and she admitted; his own inner strength played its part. But now he was helpless again...and so was she.  
The silence grew oppressively as they kept ascending the gently sloping snow-clad land. Not even any sound came from Jean-Luc’s body as it slid along, the preternatural quality of the silence only adding to Beverly’s growing fear and dread. What was Meredith thinking? What did she have in store for them...for Beverly? The doctor stumbled again and would’ve pitched forwards, face down in the snow but for the sharp, painful wrench from Meredith, using sheer force to drag Beverly upright and keep her moving onwards. Too fast, but there was no way Beverly could get her to slow her pace. Even suggesting it, Beverly knew, would put both her and Jean-Luc in grave danger. Meredith, however expressed her irritation.  
“Fucking keep up, Beverly! It’s bad enough that I have to drag this fucking piece of shit with us without you being a fucking stumble-foot!”  
Teeth chattering, Beverly said in a cloud of condensed air, “Sorry, Meredith, I’ll try and do better.”  
“So you should! I’m doing this for you...for us!”   
Somehow Beverly summoned a smile. “I know.”  
“Then stop making it so fucking hard! I’ve a good mind to dump the shit-pile! We could move faster then.”  
Doing her best to not sound too desperate, lest she provoke the mad woman, Beverly said through ragged breaths, “Don’t, please, Meredith. You know how much I want to keep him...like I said...he amuses me.”  
“Hmph!” grunted Meredith. She cast a venomous look over her shoulder at the helpless and unconscious man. “That’s all very well, Beverly, but I might find it far more amusing to play with him myself.”  
Beverly let several moments pass while they continued on before she said quietly, “Yes, that’s true, but if you did that, I wouldn’t be very happy. In fact I’d be very unhappy.”  
Coming to an abrupt halt, Meredith turned her upper body and stared at Beverly, her expression, though unreadable still managed to clearly convey deadly danger. Beverly hurried to placate her.  
“I’m not for one moment saying he’s worth anything, Meredith...my love...it’s just that I’ve been waiting so long...looking forward to this time..” She made a point of giving Jean-Luc’s body a look of derision and distaste. “I mean I’ve had to put up with so much...”  
Meredith’s expression softened immediately. She dropped Jean-Luc and pulled Beverly to her until their bodies met. She then kissed Beverly passionately, the doctor resisting the strong urge to gag. Some long moments passed before Meredith tapered the kiss then broke it. She then nuzzled Beverly under her ear, murmuring, “Oh, my poor love, my poor Beverly...how you must’ve suffered. Every time he touched you...you’re so strong, my Beverly, I suppose you coped by thinking of me. When he touched you, kissed you...” she looked down at Jean-Luc and spat at him. “...fucked you...you must’ve saved yourself by thinking of me. Ah...Beverly...so strong...so brave...”  
“Yes.” Beverly agreed quietly. “You saved me, Meredith, so you can see why I’d like to keep him. I have unfinished business with him.”   
Somehow Beverly refrained from looking at her beloved Jean-Luc. She kept eye contact with the deranged woman and even managed to look cold and disinterested. It made Meredith laugh. She tilted her head back, crowing and cackling. All Beverly could do was wait, hoping against all the odds that Meredith would let her ‘keep’ Jean-Luc. Her hopes were realised when Meredith placed one more soft kiss on Beverly’s lips before bending to grab the collar of Jean-Luc’s coat. She then took Beverly’s hand and said with tender love, “Come. I’ll take your toy...you deserve your fun.”  
Luckily Meredith turned and didn’t see the look of relief on Beverly face or the deeply concerned glance she sent at Jean-Luc. Once again they moved on.

 

It was the two sentries, placed seventy metres apart and just over the brow of the incline whose scanners first altered them to proximity of the targets. But they knew immediately something was amiss. The only targets they had were the two humans. Of the ‘ghost’ image they had nothing. The sentry on the left lifted her hand and slid the ‘armed’ selector on her rifle into the ‘active’ mode. Then, keeping in mind the orders from the 2IC, she lowered her sensors and scanners and cracked open the faceplate of her helmet. It offered a glimpse of what lay inside her camouflage suit...a sliver of her neck and chin She raised her head and sniffed deeply, slowly turning her head left and right. So intent was she, the quite whoosh of the VTD went unheard.   
The poor woman screamed as the blast hid her mid section. Her rifle flew from her hands and she fell onto the snow, writhing and screeching in hideous agony as her body slowly disintegrated. The alarm was given immediately.  
“Attack! We’re under attack!” The second sentry yelled over the now open communication system.  
Helis barked, “Conform! Give me target coordinates!”  
“I don’t have any!” The panicked sentry yelled; the sound of the still-screaming victim heard by all even without the comm system.   
“Alert!” Helis snapped curtly. “All members, alert, code alpha! Identify target and fire at...”  
She was cut off by the appalling screaming of the second sentry. Knowing he’d just been picked off, the ‘target’ clearly able to ‘see’ them despite their camouflage suits, Helis made the only decision she could.  
“Fall back! Unit one, set up a perimeter defence close to the house. Units two and three; take up positions inside the house...and arm the rangers. Tranquiliser rifles are useless in this situation. We’re going to need all the firepower we can muster.”  
Krav’s unsteady voice came through. “Are you going to request assistance?”  
He could hear the anger and frustration in Helis’s voice and she said curtly, “Affirmative! I’ll make contact with central once we’re in position.”  
“Understood.”

 

Beverly sat beside Jean-Luc, her gloved hands covering her ears, but still the sounds of the screaming victims reached her. Meredith had fashioned a rudimentary shelter of sorts from branches she’d torn from the trees and had informed Beverly she was to wait there, with Jean-Luc, until she returned. By the way she had stated this edict; there was no doubt in Beverly’s mind that if she disobeyed, the consequences would be dire, especially for Jean-Luc.  
However, there was nothing to stop Beverly from examining her lover once Meredith had left. Not knowing when she’d return, Beverly made it quick, but it was enough. She was now certain Jean-Luc’s condition, though not as bad as she’d initially thought, based on the examination undertaken in the dim confines of the rocky pocket, was serious. That he’d remained unconscious as long as he had told her his head injuries were dangerously serious and his obvious internal injuries and broken bones were going to take more than simple first aid to treat. As for the slowly advancing frostbite...nothing short of a tissue regenerator was going to be able to restore the destroyed flesh. In fact provided Beverly could get adequate drugs and equipment, he was going to need quite a lot of regeneration therapy.  
She was just closing his jacket when the first of two shockingly hideous screams assaulted her ears. Closing her eyes, Beverly groaned softly. “No...oh, God, no...”  
There was no doubt what Meredith was doing...what she clearly intended to continue to do. Beverly felt her stomach clench and knew she was going to vomit. She’d just made it out of the shelter when the upheaval occurred. It left her breathless and nauseous. Covering the steaming mess with plenty of snow, Beverly returned to Jean-Luc and covered her ears. 

 

Meredith was having immense fun. She knew the Marenans couldn’t see her, that she was invisible to their scanners and sensors...she even knew she was undetectable to their natural senses, at least in that she emitted no scent. She did acknowledge the Marenans could, like the mereks, sense the danger she posed, but they had no way to pinpoint it. She moved wraith-like through the falling snow, drifting with graceful ease from tree to tree, blending in until she positioned herself to target her next victim.  
Having disposed of the two outer sentries and witnessed with great amusement the withdrawal of the remaining military members to the house, Meredith had taken immense delight in slowly advancing on them, knowing the very fact she was taking her time was adding to the stress of her intended victims.   
She stared implacably at the unknowing target for several long moments before the insane grin appeared. She raised her arm, aimed and depressed the firing button. Her eerie eyes lit up as the beam was faithfully reflected across the surface of her eyes giving them an odd coloured cast of two hues. As the unfortunate victim began to scream and writhe, Meredith took a moment to savour the experience before beginning to stalk the next. The quietly insistent soft chime from her pocket made her glower, but she stopped and took the device out. What she saw made her sneer and mutter a particularly vulgar curse. Meredith was insane, but not stupid. She knew when it was time to cut her losses and retreat. Turning abruptly, she made her way back to the shelter. In doing so many lives were spared a hideous death...not that Meredith cared. Her only concern was for herself...and Beverly.

 

Somehow Beverly sensed Meredith’s approach. She tensed and instinctively reached for Jean-Luc, but at the last second remembered how badly Meredith would take it if she should see Beverly showing any kind of concern for her best friend, so the doctor quickly withdrew her hand just as Meredith’s head appeared inside the shelter.   
“Come on...we’ve got to leave.”  
By the cold, curt tone, Beverly knew not to ask any questions. She assumed Meredith had completed her grim, horrendous task and was now going to take them to the house, but that wasn’t the case. Once Beverly had dragged Jean-Luc out of the shelter, Meredith cast him a look of pure hatred and muttered, “Does ‘that’ have to come?”  
Smiling with what she hoped appeared as warmth; Beverly shrugged and said quietly, “I’d like it.”  
Beverly had to look disinterested as Meredith toed Jean-Luc, shoving his body until it turned over to lay face-down. “Very well.” She said grudgingly. “But that doesn’t mean I have to look at the prick’s face.”  
Now confused, Beverly was wondering how Jean-Luc would fare being dragged face-down. The answer came when Meredith lifted her right hand and spoke to her wrist.  
“Three to transport. Initiate.”  
“...what?” Beverly was momentarily disoriented. They were within a moderately spacious area of some kind but Beverly didn’t know if they were still on Marena or on a ship. Once again her unspoken questions were answered when Meredith took her hand and smiled, gently pulling her off what Beverly quickly realised was a transporter pad.  
“Come, my love, let me get you comfortable. Our journey will only be a few days’ duration, obviously you’d like to...” Meredith wrinkled her flattish nose. “...get cleaned up. While you wash, I’ll lay out your new clothing. All that...” She waved her hand up and down, gesturing to Beverly’s reeking outdoor attire, “...you can dispose of in the reclimator.”  
When Beverly made no move, Meredith’s expression changed and Beverly knew instantly she and Jean-Luc were in danger.  
“What are you waiting for?” The question was asked quietly, but the underlying threat was clear. Scrambling to placate the unhinged woman, Beverly said quickly, “Oh...I just don’t know where the bathroom is...that’s all.”  
Meredith held Beverly’s gaze, her eerie eyes glittering, then she changed abruptly. Her smile; frightening as it was, made Beverly breathe a sigh of relief.  
“Of course! How silly of me. Come...I’ll take you...it’s in the en suite...off the bedroom.”  
The openly lascivious look Meredith gave Beverly made her skin crawl, but she had to smile and look enthusiastic. “Sounds lovely!” She said brightly.  
As they left the room, Beverly found it almost impossible to resist the urge to look back at the unconscious form of Jean-Luc, but she knew to do so would only provoke Meredith, so with a Herculean effort, she looked forward, only shifting her gaze to give Meredith the occasional look of encouragement.

 

The channel to the Marenan military executive was a secure one and Liam was impressed by the unruffled, quiet efficiency he was encountering. Up-to-date reports were coming in and, although the situation looked dire, the request for more personnel, armed with deadlier weapons and, with the judicious assistance of Liam and his teams and a promise of more sophisticated scanners, it appeared the situation at his home would soon be resolved. But...not without further loss of life. Liam could only hope that didn’t include Jean-Luc and Beverly, not that he valued their lives above that of the Marenans, far from it, but Jean-Luc was a dear friend of many years standing and an important cog in Starfleet’s engine. Although Liam wished to preserve all those involved, he was particularly keen to save his friend...and his lover.  
“Then I can assume you have the situation under control?” He asked mildly.  
“Yes. Our teams on the ground have secured the home and have established a solid perimeter defence.” The Marenan officer said.  
Liam made sure his tone and expression showed no derision. “That may prove ineffective against a VTD Are you sure there’s only one?”   
“Affirmative. All instances of deaths attributed to a VTD have come from one source.”  
“Despite the latest intel reporting fire vectors from three different positions?”  
The Marenan female military leader’s eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting we don’t know what we’re talking about?”  
Holding up a placating hand, Liam shook his head. “No, not at all. I just want to know what to expect, that’s all.”  
The female sighed and briefly closed her eyes. “Damn.” She said softly. “I overreacted. You have my apologies.” She straightened and cast off her personal concerns. “As you know our intel shows three targets, two humans, one male and one female. The male is injured, the female also, but not as badly. The third contact has somehow managed to cloak itself. I don’t know how this has been done, all I can tell you is that we get the occasional ‘ghost’ but we can’t get a solid lock. It’s our hope your scanners will work better than ours.”  
“Indeed.” Liam nodded thoughtfully, then said aloud, “And I see there’s been no activity in the last two hours?”  
“Affirmative.”  
“And no ‘ghosts’?”  
“None, but that doesn’t mean the contact isn’t still active. With our perimeter defence being so well situated and the house fortified and defended, whoever it is may be biding their time, waiting for darkness, which is fast approaching.”  
“Agreed, but the other contacts...the humans...they don’t seem to be registering any more.”  
The female tilted her head in agreement. “True. It’s our feeling that they’ve been...withdrawn...moved out of sensor range to allow the third contact to have greater freedom of movement. That could also account for the hiatus...these last two hours have been without any activity. The target may well be either on its way back, or is already here, stalking or settling down to wait for night. Of course the frustrating thing is we don’t know either way.”  
“Yes,” agreed Liam. “I suppose all your people can do is sit tight and wait.”  
“Hmm.” The female said dryly. “Your ETA?”  
“Three hours.”  
“I’ll meet you at the coordinates.”  
“Agreed. I’ll have the personnel and equipment your people require.”  
“Much appreciated. Controller Oprunn out.”  
Liam looked up at his mirror and saw the being closest to him had its head turned and was silently watching.  
“Three hours.” Liam said quietly.  
The being inclined its covered head and Liam saw the soft light of the internal communications illuminate. He listened silently as the team leader issued orders to begin preparations for deployment. It was a two-stage procedure. For now it was a matter of checking equipment and the sophisticated computer systems integrated into their adaptive camouflage suits. Once on approach to their deployment site, the ‘activate’ order would be given. As the teams deployed, either by beaming down or by exiting the landed crafts, they would be instantly ready, aware of all potential ‘hostiles’ and invisible to everyone except each other. Even their weapons would be undetectable.  
Liam redirected his attention forward and opened a secure channel to the sister ship. “Engage MHT”  
The barely discernible shimmer that enveloped the ship made Liam smile coldly. “Well...” he muttered darkly. “If you can detect us through our molecular hull transformation, then good on you, but we’re going to be coming in with a few surprises.”

 

It occurred to Meredith that it may be an appropriate time to hum. Yes, she thought to herself. Something jaunty...something that adequately reflected her uplifted mood. Her unnatural eyes stared implacably at the holograph floating in the air before her. The two ships, travelling at remarkable speed, well above what could be considered normal for any Starfleet vessel, made the woman grin.  
“Oh, my, what have you been up to? That can only be a slip drive at work...and that means you can only be some kind of Federation rescue team. Well, well...it seems I may have more fun after all.”  
She stretched, noting the tightness of her skin. Grunting softly she looked along her long, leanly muscled arm, then ran the fingertips of her other hand along its contours.  
“Too long without my creams.” She murmured with annoyance. But then she grinned. “Something my beautiful Beverly can...assist me with.”  
Lowering her arms she cocked her head and said quietly, “Computer, deploy a full spread covert mines, then engage hidden mode and take me home, maximum velocity.”  
“Deploying full spread of covert mines. Taking you home, Meredith. Maximum velocity. Hidden mode.”  
Taking one last look at the approaching ships, Meredith chuckled. “Ha! Stupid, plodding fuckers. You’ll find nothing here and no trace of me or my ship...except my little surprises! I’d tell you to piss in the wind...but that might freeze your cocks off.” She chuckled again and, as she turned to leave the cockpit, said off-handedly, “Hologram off.”  
She had intended to join Beverly in the shower, but spotted Jean-Luc, still lying on the transporter pad. Her superior hearing and sight caught his soft moans and weak movements. Having stripped off her clothing, the now naked Meredith strolled over to the injured man and stood staring down at him. She then quickly squatted and gripped the back of Jean-Luc’s head, cruelly digging her fingers into his scalp as she lifted his head and turned it. He moaned a little louder in pain causing the demented woman to say coldly, “If you think you’re in pain now, Picard, you’re sadly mistaken. You thought a d’ktahg shoved in your belly hurt?” She blurted out a bark of laughter. “Oh no, you stinking pile of shit! That was nothing! You wait...you just wait while my Beverly, the woman you’ve held captive so long...raping her, molesting her when you felt like it...touching her with your filthy hands...your disgusting cock...” With her free hand, Meredith pushed two fingers into Jean-Luc’s nostrils so far blood began to dribble out as he groaned loudly. “Yeah...you just wait until my Beverly cuts your cock off. Slowly, sawing the not-too-sharp knife back and forth. Yeah...and then your balls. Oh, God...I can’t wait!”   
Pulling her fingers from his nostrils, Meredith used her bloodied hand to squeeze her Bartolin’s glands to coat her erect clit. She stared intently at Jean-Luc’s bruised and battered face as she came three times before she let go of Jean-Luc’s head, letting it drop to the metal pad. She stood and, looking down at him, she said disdainfully, “I bet you still stink when we’ve stripped you naked, Picard. You’re nothing but pure shit, inside and out.”  
Her bare feet were silent as she walked away, but Jean-Luc had cracked open one swollen eye to watch her. He cared nothing for himself. All he could think of was Beverly.  
“Where are you, Beverly, what has she done to you? Are you safe? Is our baby all right?”  
He closed his eye and began to attempt to conserve what little energy he possessed. Unfortunately he’d begun to shiver and it was growing violent, eking out what meagre strength he had.

 

The ‘active’ signal had been given and the teams on both ships were ready. Liam was just about to order a drop out of slip drive when an alarm sounded.  
He quickly scanned the console before asking curtly, “Computer! Cause of alarm?”  
“Unidentified objects ahead. Possibly hostile.”  
“Elaborate!”  
“I cannot.”  
His body humming with anticipation and readying for action, Liam said with odd calmness, “Can you give me coordinates? A visual, perhaps?”  
“No.”  
“Then why do you think whatever is ahead may be hostile?”  
“I have detected minute traces of quartum.”  
That made Liam frown. “The chemical compound used in thruster packs?”  
“Yes.”  
“Right...but quartum on its own isn’t a problem.”  
“Correct, however when the normally stable quartum is exposed to radiation above 350 rads, it becomes explosive. Also, recent research suggests other factors may have an adverse effect on quartum. The general consensus amongst the scientific community is that any trace of quartum should be viewed with suspicion and treated accordingly.”  
“Shit.” Liam muttered darkly. He then asked an obvious question. “At our present distance from the Marenan star, what is the intensity of radiation we’re experiencing?”  
As we have only just entered the Marenan system, I cannot give a definitive answer, as the level rises the closer we get to the star, however, at present we are experiencing between 1,387 to 1,392 W/m².”  
“Hmm.” Mused Liam. “So about 1,380 average watts per metre squared. And at this distance, are those levels producing rads anywhere near 350?”  
“No. For that level we would have to be further within the Marenan system, past Marena itself and significantly closer to the Marenan star.”  
Liam’s reaction was swift. “Computer, bring both ships to a dead stop!” He then sat back and stared out at the sudden appearance of stars.  
“Computer,” he said thoughtfully. “If the level of rads at our current position is insufficient to cause any instability in the traces of quartum you’ve found, then are you suggesting we may be in danger due to the ‘other factors’ you mentioned?”  
“Yes.”  
“Based on what?”  
“Quartum is not a naturally occurring substance. Taking into account our current mission, I cannot accept the traces, minute as they are, could be there via any other means but as a deliberate act. I advise due caution.”  
“So there’s nothing to suggest the traces might’ve come from thruster packs?”  
“No. I cannot detect any evidence of a ship or any extravehicular activity.”  
“Right!” Liam declared. “I want to move towards those traces, 500 kph. Bring the Teron C system online and initiate full-spectrum scan.”  
“Warning. The Teron C system has not yet been declassified. It is still in the developmental stage and as yet the Teron Project has not released the ‘C’ generation of the project. Its use is ill advised. The method is not yet fully tested.”  
“I know; I’m intimately aware of the project. How do you think this ship came to be equipped with one? The ‘A’ and ‘B’ systems worked superbly, there’s no reason to believe the ‘C’ won’t be every bit as good. Carry out my instructions.”  
Liam’s eyes, even with their full-lens covering, gleamed. There on his console screen a collection of bright yellow dots glowed. Spread out in a large area and all within the designated approach to Marena, Liam’s face became stony.  
“Well, will you look at that!” He sat back a little, considering his options. “Computer...now that you can ‘see’ the objects, can you analyse what they are?”  
“Attempting to analyse.”  
By the time it took, Liam knew this was something the computer had not encountered before and that was disturbing because the computer system he used was familiar with things a standard Starfleet computer would know nothing about.  
“Warning!”  
As the computer delivered the word, both ships’ MHT changed, restoring normal hull configuration and the shields came up automatically.  
“Prepare for impact in ten seconds.”   
Everyone on board adopted the ‘secure’ position, but as Liam settled himself he asked,  
“Computer, what’s going to happen?”  
“The Teron C full-spectrum scan has activated the objects. They are some kind of explosive device, set to detonate once in close proximity to a passing ship. The premature detonations will create a blast radius of several thousand kilometres. The shock wave will arrive in two seconds.”  
Liam had just enough time to tighten his grip and clench his jaw when his ship and her sister were tossed end over end backwards. He knew the computer would re-establish attitude control, but it wouldn’t attempt to do so until the shock wave was well past.  
The inertial dampeners struggled to compensate, and were momentarily overwhelmed. Luckily only a few items got loose to fly dangerously about the interior. Those on board stayed in their seats.   
Liam had kept his eyes closed. Ever since his first experience in space, during his Academy days, the sight of the starscape crossing his vision in any way other way than a straight path, made him feel decidedly queasy. So rather than witness the wildly chaotic jumble of stars as they tumbled helplessly, he chose to shut it all out.  
Not until the computer calmly announced, “Attitude restored.” Did Liam open his eyes and the angry light in them boded ill for whoever had laid the trap.  
But before he could act he needed vital information. To that end he went again to the computer, ordering an intense analysis of what was left of the devices. His next move would depend on what he learned.

 

As soon as Beverly had entered the shower she was on her guard, expecting at any moment to have to contend with an intrusive Meredith, so when she actually joined the red head, Beverly wasn’t surprised, but she was both fearful and filled with dread.  
She closed her eyes as the woman placed her hands on Beverly’s hips and turned her. The hand that rose to gently grip her chin was oddly cool and when Beverly lifted her head, the grip increased to uncomfortable levels when she kept her eyes closed.  
“Look at me, Beverly, my lovely.” The words were softly spoken, but there was a very subtle undertone of menace. Beverly swallowed and forced her eyes open, stifling a gasp at seeing Meredith’s face so close to hers. She knew with a terrible sinking feeling that she was about to be kissed. Meredith tilted her head, but kept her other-worldly eyes open. Beverly understood she must do the same.   
How she managed to not only permit the passionate kiss, but reciprocate, Beverly didn’t know. All she did know was that should she fail to convince the insane woman of her shared ‘love’, both she and Jean-Luc would suffer. But whereas Beverly might survive, she had no doubt whatsoever Jean-Luc would not.   
Long moments passed as they kissed, Meredith’s hands moving provocatively over Beverly’s body, growing bolder by the second. When Meredith finally withdrew her tongue and took Beverly’s hand, the doctor knew what was to come. The shower shut off automatically as the women left the stall. Beverly was led without protest to the huge bed and gently encouraged to lie upon it. She did so and fully expected Meredith to join her, but she didn’t. At least not immediately. As a very frightened Beverly watched on, Meredith stood beside the bed and just stared down at her, Beverly not able to discern her expression or gain any idea of what she might be thinking. However, that soon became clear.  
“Do you know how long I’ve waited...wanted...to see you like this?” Meredith asked reverently.  
Beverly didn’t get a chance to reply as Meredith continued. “Of course it’d be better at our home...my dreams always had us at home...but...” She shrugged and tilted her head. “This will do.” She then smiled and said quietly, “Computer, display.”  
The walls and ceiling of the room shimmered and as Beverly watched in sick awe, every surface she could see was covered with images of her face. Some of the images were close ups of one eye or others just her mouth, but above the bed was a highly detailed and enhanced image of her face, her eyes and lips having been highlighted. Meredith raised her arms and lifted her head as if in rapture. Indeed, that was exactly what she was.  
“This is what has sustained me, Beverly my Goddess. I’ve been through a great deal to reach this time...to finally be with you and through all my travails my only solace...my only comfort was this...It kept my hopes alive and allowed me to continue. I knew. Beverly, I knew we were destined to be together, to be one.” She lowered her arms and head and locking her intense gaze on Beverly’s eyes, she stepped forward and knelt on the bed beside the terrified doctor.  
“The love we’re about to make will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced, my Beverly.” The demented woman sighed, the chuckled softly. “But of course you don’t know what’s to come. Once you’re like me you’ll know true ecstasy. This will be just a prelude.”  
Before Beverly could react, Meredith moved quickly, covering her body and kissing her with raw passion. Meredith’s hands slid down Beverly to grip her hips, pressing down painfully and trapping her. Her long, lean, muscled legs forced Beverly’s wide apart and the doctor couldn’t contain and yelp of surprise as Meredith’s long, fat, elongated clit slid inside her.  
Meredith of course, took the vocalisation as a sign of Beverly’s passion. “Yes!” She whispered hoarsely. “I’m inside you, Beverly...we’re one. One heart, one soul and soon, one mind!”  
Beverly had to give the impression she was enjoying what was happening. She wrapped her arms around the hard, muscled back of the woman as she thrust, driving her hips down then pulling back, only to repeat the movement again and again.   
Beverly knew scant minutes later that Meredith was coming. The woman arched her back, eyes wide open and huge, square teeth clenched. “Ahh!” She said in a long sigh. If Beverly thought her ordeal was over she was sadly mistaken. Meredith withdrew, grinning with demented lust.  
Before Beverly could react, the woman moved down the bed and suddenly began to extend her prehensile tongue. As Beverly watched in sick fascination, Meredith formed her tongue into a phallus. As suddenly as it’d appeared, it vanished back inside Meredith’s mouth. The grin was back. She arched the muscles on her hairless face and winked. It was grotesque.  
“Once you feel my ‘special’ tongue inside you, Beverly my dear, any memories of cocks will simply disappear.” Her expression darkened as anger coloured her voice. “And any lingering memories of Picard and how he raped and molested you...His disgusting cock...”  
Like flipping a switch, her excited, happy expression was back. “But never again! Prepare yourself, Beverly, you’re going to be fucked like you’ve never been fucked before!”  
She plunged her head down between Beverly’s legs and she felt the tongue; in its phallus shape, penetrate her. Frightened she would be penetrated too deeply and harm her baby, Beverly grabbed Meredith’s smooth, bald head and said as provocatively as she could, “Not too deep...my love...I’m...I’m sore.”  
Meredith hummed sensuously in response and tapered her thrusts, but while one of her hands played with Beverly’s breasts, the other was busy rubbing her clit. Not aroused in the least, this was very uncomfortable, bordering on painful. And, as she knew it would, the longer Meredith rubbed and pinched, it did indeed become exceptionally painful, But Beverly had no option but to feign passion, writing and moaning as if in the throes of ecstasy.  
Fortunately for Beverly, Meredith needed more for herself. First one, then both of her hands went to her monstrous clit and quickly brought herself to several short, sharp orgasms. Beverly was sure to ‘come’ at the same time.  
An immensely self-satisfied Meredith stretched out along Beverly’s side, idly rolling the doctor’s nipples in her long thick fingers. While nuzzling under Beverly’s ear, she said sultrily, “Now wasn’t that fucking fantastic?” She giggled at her pun and waited for Beverly’s reply.  
“Yes.” Whispered Beverly. “But I’m tired now and sore.”  
“Oh! My poor Beverly!” Meredith exclaimed softly. “I forgot about your injuries. I’m so sorry. You rest and when you wake, I’ll provide you with everything you need to treat yourself.”  
Meredith’s tone was so solicitous, Beverly almost grimaced. But she kept control and smiled her thanks. Her relief as Meredith left the bed was tempered by her worry for Jean-Luc. But she had to play along. Until she had Meredith’s permission, there was nothing she could do for her lover.  
Sleep was the last thing she wanted to do, but it was made moot when Meredith reappeared and without warning, injected Beverly with a sedative. As the doctor slipped into unconsciousness she thought, “Please let it be safe for the baby.”  
Meredith stood by the bed for a long moment, simply enjoying the sight of her sated, or so she thought, lover. Her gentle, dreamy expression suddenly vanished to be replaced by cold anger. Turning on her heel, she left the bedroom and went straight to Jean-Luc.

 

Liam Dogovich was by nature a patient man. In his line of work sometimes months, occasionally years might pass before a ‘situation’ could be resolved. At times like those, there was no point in trying to rush things...they just had to take their own course.  
But the current situation called for urgency. The trouble was he had to wait while his computer did an analysis that, judging by the time it was taking, was obviously a difficult task. He sat back, closing his eyes and thinking of his options. Of course they depended on what he was told by the computer, so in a way it was a wasted effort, but it occupied his mind and calmed him.  
His eyes snapped open when the masculine voice of the computer said, “Analysis complete. The devices were constructed using several components, none having a single source. The quartum was a precursor, but not the trigger. It was a three-stage activation process. Arming, coalescing and detonation. The devices were pre-programmed to activate only when encountering a specific propulsion signature of a specific craft, or on detecting a Teron C full spectrum scan. At that time...”  
Liam sat up, his tone curt. “Stop! Computer, as you well know; the two craft we’re using don’t have a known propulsion signature and no one but me knows this ship is fitted with a Teron C scanner. How is it that the devices appear to have been deliberately manufactured to target us?”  
“Over the last three and a half months, it has become apparent there have been some anomalies in the ‘blue’ security system.”  
“Anomalies?” said Liam incredulously. “What’s that supposed to mean and why wasn’t I told?”  
“You were not informed, nor were any active ‘blue’ operatives informed. Until such time as the anomalies are explained, it was deemed unnecessarily burdensome to concern current ‘blue’ operatives.”  
“Oh, that’s just bloody marvellous!” Liam’s sarcasm was lost on the computer. “All right, it seems this situation we’re in now suggests the anomalies may well be evidence of a serious security breach. What are the chances I’m right?”  
“On the balance of probability, you may be correct.”  
“So...how is it possible that someone, a group or an individual, got in? Isn’t our security the best there is?”  
“No security system is totally impregnable. Given enough time, or the means, anyone could eventually breach any system.”  
Rolling his eyes, Liam growled, “I know that! But if these ‘anomalies’ have only occurred over the last three and a half months, that seems to suggest either the breach occurred when the first anomaly was noted and then continued, or the perpetrators have taken this long to achieve the break. Point is...the system has obviously been compromised.”  
“There is insufficient evidence to make that kind of determination.”  
“Oh really?” said an increasingly angry Liam. “So just how do you explain the devices? If your analysis is correct, someone has access to our technology to the point where they can create and tailor explosive devices to destroy our craft...and only our craft! What more evidence do you require?”  
The computer remained silent so Liam continued. “And don’t forget it was the Teron C FS scan that initiated the arming sequence! How would any enemy know about that scanner if not through a security breach?”  
Again the computer refrained from replying. A sneering Liam said curtly, “I suppose our covert communications are suspect as well?”  
“That would be consistent.”  
“Well,” sighed Liam. “We have to let Control know. Taking into account we’ve been compromised, what would be the best way to alert them?”  
“Postulating that the enemy would be looking for our covert methods of communication, the most obvious way would be via open channels using current relays. Provided the audio only message was constructed with care and seemingly innocuous, there would be no reason a listening enemy would suspect it was anything but a routine subspace signal.”  
“Normal comm traffic.” Liam nodded thoughtfully. “And including the accepted code words...” He sat up and shook his head. “No! If they’ve been good enough to get in, they’d know everything. No, we have to get the dialogue right and direct the message to some normal, run-of-the-mill department, nowhere near ‘blue’.”  
His little finger rose to his teeth as he began to chew on what little that remained of his fingernail. Almost fifteen minutes passed before he began to smile. “Right. Computer, send this to Commander Gregory Allen at the Academy physical training department, but send it through the non-essential relays, make sure you use the ones used for personal communications.”  
Five minutes later he sat back and took a deep breath. “Continue to Marena and open a channel to the Marenan commander at my home’s location.”  
He knew as soon as he heard the female military leader the quarry was gone. He wasn’t surprised at all.

 

Jean-Luc didn’t hear Meredith’s silent approach. The first thing he knew of her presence was when she grabbed a handful of the back of his torn coat and began to drag him across the deck. He gritted his teeth, refusing to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was hurting him, but when she dumped him on the cold ceramic tiled floor of the bathroom and stood over him with a knife, he stared up at her through one eye and felt his stomach clench in fear and the sick anticipation of what she intended.  
Meredith saw his open eye and grinned with demented delight.  
“Allow me to introduce a dear friend.” She bent and ran the tip of the blade down his stubbled face, until she got to the soft, unprotected skin under his lower jaw. There she pushed the knife until the point entered his flesh. His mouth twitched, but that was his only reaction. It seemed to amuse the woman.  
“Ah, yes.” She grinned coldly. “The famed Picard stoicism. I wonder how stoic you’ll be when I slice your cock off?”  
Unable to defend himself, Jean-Luc endured her not-too-gentle cutting of his clothing until he lay on his side on the floor, naked, cold, helpless and shivering. Meredith took her time examining him, obviously enjoying the pain she caused when probing and pinching conspicuously damaged areas of his body. The blisters on his frost-bitten toes and tops of his fingers drew special attention. She pricked them with her knife, non-existent eyebrows raised in surprise.  
“Oh! Well, well...there’s still a little fluid in them. Still...being mostly black, maybe I should just hack them off now....save Beverly the trouble?”  
Jean-Luc refused to react, but when Meredith carried out her threat he growled in protest. She looked up and grinned again.  
“You needn’t worry; shit-pile. I’m not cutting off your toes, not that you,d feel it if I did...unless I went for the unaffected flesh.” She winked and Jean-Luc felt nauseous. “No, I’m just slicing off the blisters. You only have second-degree frost bite and the tip of your nose...” She jabbed the point of the blade into the end of his nose, making his eye tear. “Is only frost nipped.” She giggled and made a show of wiping the blood from the knife tip over Jean-Luc’s whiskery cheek.  
“But it might be fun to slice off the end of your nose. I know how sensitive that area is...” She suddenly bared her enormous teeth and shoved Jean-Luc over, placing her foot on his bare stomach and using her knife to move his penis. Her expression changed from anticipatory glee to sullen disappointment.  
“Your cock seems to be unaffected. What a pity, I could’ve sliced it into little rings.” She bent lower and roughly handled his testicles. “Damn! Typical. A fucking male would rather lose his fingers and toes than permit any damage to his precious cock and balls!” She shook her head and, without warning, kicked the helpless man.  
“Oh well, I’ll just have to find another way to amuse myself. I still have all these blisters to slice off. Once you completely thaw out, all those nerve ends are going to come alive. Then we’ll see just how much feeling you’ve got back!” She giggled cruelly. “And how stoic you are then!”  
Although she’d been correct in saying he had little feeling in the frost-bitten areas, he wasn’t without any feeling at all. As the knife blade sliced down to healthy flesh, he wanted to yell, to writhe in pain, but to do so would only give Meredith more incentive to cause further agony. So somehow he withstood it, even when, despite her previous comments, she did indeed slice off a small portion of the tip of his nose.  
Just when he had begun to think the ordeal was over, she grabbed him under his shoulders and dragged him unceremoniously into the shower. The bitingly cold water made him gasp and splutter, earning him three savage kicks and a hissed demand for silence, lest he wake Meredith’s sleeping lover.  
He was blue again when Meredith finally dragged him out of the shower stall. She flung an already-damp towel at him, sneering, “Dry yourself, you fucking useless piece of shit! And make sure you clean up the fucking blood you’ve left all over my fucking floor! When I return, if I see so much as a speck...” She grinned and the sight made Jean-Luc’s testicles rise. “Well, I think you can figure it out. Even a dumb, plodding shit-stick like you has some brains! Miniscule as they are.”   
With that she left the bathroom. It took Jean-Luc almost twenty minutes to dry himself then find and remove all traces of his blood from the gleaming white, tiled floor. With her usual disconcerting silence, Meredith reappeared. She made a show of minutely inspecting the floor before grunting and giving a nod. She straightened and looked down at the prone man, a terrible, predatory smile on her grotesque face.   
“Well, it seems you’re not as useless as I thought, Picard. Maybe I might keep you for a little while...use you to clean up around the house.” She cackled dementedly then suddenly held both hands across her wide mouth, her unnatural eyes wide. She stayed like that for a few seconds before lowering her hands. “Shh!” She commanded Jean-Luc. “I’ve already told you to keep quiet! If you wake Beverly you’ll be sorry!”  
A deeply disturbed and confused Jean-Luc nodded silently, but when Meredith abruptly squatted by his head and gripped his chin in a painfully tight grasp he felt sure he was about to die. But what she said was so bizarre he could only nod again.  
“Really, Picard! You simply have to stop all this shouting and laughing! I can’t be held responsible for what might happen if you wake Beverly. She...” Meredith looked fearfully at the bedroom. “She has a...temper.”  
After Jean-Luc had nodded, Meredith’s demeanour abruptly changed again. The old Meredith was back.  
“You stupid fucker, Picard. It’s not Beverly you have to worry about, it’s me!”  
She was still cackling as she walked out of the bathroom, leaving the violently shivering man on the floor, dabbing at his wounds, fearful of what she’d do if his vigilance failed and he soiled the floor with his blood.

 

Beverly woke somewhat disoriented and with an unpleasant taste in her dry mouth. Frowning, she looked around the sumptuously appointed bedroom, confused and beginning to panic. But with a suddenness that shook her, her memory kicked into gear and everything came flooding back. Her right hand went instinctively to her belly as she recognised the aftertaste of the sedative, merfadon. Her worry increased as the drug was contraindicated in pregnant women. Had she been taking a herbal supplement, something like the makara herb, for instance, she could’ve negated the effect of the drug and merely feigned sleep, perhaps even found a way to free herself and Jean-Luc from her demented captor while she was lulled into a false sense of security, thinking Beverly unconscious, but luck wasn’t with her. Her only hope was that Meredith hadn’t used a heavy dose and by the way she felt, she had some confidence that was the case, but until she could discover the time, or more precisely how much time had passed since being injected, she couldn’t make as accurate assessment.  
Of course that meant interacting with Meredith...keeping up the pretence of the devoted lover. Beverly grimaced, then it suddenly occurred to her she might be under surveillance. She wouldn’t put it past Meredith to exhibit paranoia as well as her other over bizarre traits, so to make sure her grimace seemed to be due to physical and not emotional concerns, Beverly casually removed her hand from her belly and made a show of stretching and attempting to massage out residual stiffness. Her suspicions were born out when Meredith strolled in, conveniently within a few moments of Beverly’s ‘show’.  
They smiled at each other and Beverly had to resist the powerful urge to move away when Meredith sat on the bed and lifted a hand to gently caress Beverly’s face. In a way the implied intimacy and surprising gentleness of the gesture were more unsettling than it should’ve been when Beverly considered what she knew this unhinged woman was capable of. It seemed such a paradigm shift...to be able to express such love and devotion while at the blink of an eye being just as willing to become a rage-filled murderous fiend. And, Beverly thought grimly, if she couldn’t keep the woman ‘happy’ not only would her life be forfeited, but that of her unborn baby and Jean-Luc’s as well. So much was riding on her performance Beverly worried that she may not be able to sustain it. Hard enough when fit and well, but weakened and under the duress and threat of such huge proportions...she sighed, then her heart missed a beat or two at her lapse. She chanced a look into the greatly disturbing eyes of the besotted woman to see if she had interpreted the sigh as anything other than contentment and was enormously relieved to find that she seemed to have done just that, missing the fact the sigh was due to the exact opposite.  
Keeping her adoring gaze on the doctor, Meredith turned her upper body with sinuous grace, reached down and picked up a med kit, obviously placed beside the bed as Bevery slept. Placing the kit on the bed, Meredith flashed what she thought was an encouraging smile and said with smooth unctuousness, “Tell me what you want me to do, my sweet one.”  
Returning the smile with what she hoped seemed genuine enthusiasm, Beverly suddenly realised she could use the situation to her advantage. Provided she could fool Meredith with medical gobbledegook, she could administer pharmaceuticals to herself that would give some protection to the baby to help ward off any further application of sedatives or other, as yet unknown drugs. Starting a conversational commentary, Beverly took the empty hypospray from its sculptured niche and not looking at the row of vials, selected one as she looked deeply into Meredith’s eyes. Having loaded the hypo, she lifted her hand to inject herself when Meredith’s hand suddenly seized Beverly’s wrist and although she didn’t squeeze or cause any pain, Beverly found she couldn’t move her arm. Not so much as a centimetre.   
Holding the same facial expression, Meredith said quietly, “I think you’ve made a mistake, my lovely one.”  
Had it not been for the chilly, flat cast to her eyes, Beverly may have tried to bluster her way through, but with a terrible sinking feeling, the doctor realised that Meredith knew exactly what she was doing. She could only hope the woman didn’t know why.  
“You recall I told you of my complete superiority?” Meredith asked. “How I am not only physically superior, but intellectually so as well?” Meredith said in the same quiet conversational tone. Playing along and feigning innocence, Beverly nodded, the smile beginning to tire her muscles.  
“Yes, of course!” Enthused Beverly. “And I think it’s wonderful.” She added.  
“I’m sure you do.” Replied Meredith and Beverly couldn’t tell if it had been said sarcastically or with real sincerity.  
“Well surely you must realise my vast knowledge includes all things medical? And if you realise that, then you must know that using beta leptose is definitely not the drug you require. In fact I have to wonder just why you did select that particular drug. I see absolutely no reason to justify its use; you simply lack the need for it. Now an anti inflammatory/analgesic like 3% hydrocortilene would be more in keeping with the treatment of your injuries, at least your skeletal ones. The soft tissue damage, as you well know, can easily be repaired with a deep tissue mitigator, followed by a short spell of regeneration. The entire treatment shouldn’t take more than half an hour. And now that we’re here, at my...our...home...”  
Beverly almost gasped. How long had she been kept unconscious? And what of Jean-Luc? Resisting the urge to swallow nervously and somehow winning the battle against flushing, Beverly managed to look at the hypo with a very good impression of confusion and surprise.  
“Oh!” she said with the appropriate amount of shock. “Oh, God...I didn’t look! I was so enthralled by you, Meredith, my love...I should’ve been paying more attention to what I was doing!”  
“Yes, Beverly, you should.” Meredith’s eyes suddenly lost the threatening cast and began to sparkle with happiness and understanding. “But I can see how it happened. I too find myself under your spell, Beverly, and as I’m so much more experienced and superior, it’s little wonder you couldn’t cope. I know I’m very overpowering. But that is the strength of my love for you, my lovely one and you’re going to have to learn to deal with it...to try and cope until we can get you to the Fen and be made like me. Then, as equals I won’t be such a daunting and overwhelming presence. Our love will soar, Beverly, giving and taking in equal measure. But in the mean time, I must insist you do your best to keep your mind on what you’re doing when you’re not...engaged with me. I know it’ll be hard, but you must try.”  
“God...the conceit!” Thought Beverly. “The ego!” But outwardly Beverly frowned a little and gave a tentative nod. “I’ll try, Meredith...but you’re right, it will be very difficult.”  
The woman grinned and gave a grotesque wink. “Being in the presence of perfection is intimidating, my love, but never fear, I’ll make allowances. Now I believe you’re about to change vials?”  
“Yes.” Beverly replied meekly, making a show of carefully selecting the correct vial and changing it in the hypo. She looked into Meredith’s eyes as she injected herself and sighed with seeming happiness. She added to the scenario by saying gratefully, “Thank you, Meredith. What would I do without you?”  
“I don’t know, Beverly, but I doubt you’d survive.”  
It was said so flatly and so cryptically, Beverly couldn’t help but feel directly threatened. She was once again reminded of just how unstable the woman was. She had to be more vigilant. Yes, Meredith was insane, but, and this was vitally important to keep in mind, she was not stupid. In fact she was highly intelligent which, of course, only served to make her that much more dangerous.

 

Liam closed the channel and looked up at the mirror. His penchant for using a rear view mirror was a well known within the close and tight community he moved in and over the years he’d become accustomed to the gentle ribbing he took because of it, but although he was derided, albeit in a friendly manner, no one could deny the mirror was handy. It was discreet and required no movement or technology. Perfect in Liam’s line of work.  
He saw the 2IC’s covered head was turned in his direction and Liam gave a small nod. The person lifted its hand and activated a selected link to the other team members, informing them to stand down for the time being. The 2IC then returned its attention back to Liam.   
Speaking quietly, Liam said, “They’ve flown the coop. Ground personnel are mopping up, but so far have found nothing to indicate who the aggressor or aggressors are, although I think I have a pretty good idea who we’re dealing with. But until I can confirm that, our first priority is to find whatever craft was used for their escape because as you know, so far there’s been virtually no trace. Now that could mean we’re dealing with an as yet unknown entity, or someone has got hold of technology they shouldn’t have and are exploiting it for their own purposes. But their agenda? Again, that’s something I hope to discover. So you and your teams can relax for the time being.”  
In a tiny receiver in Liam’s left ear a soft, deep voice was heard. Liam recognised the gender and accent immediately. Andorian, male.  
“Commodore Dogovich, would it not be more expedient for us to be at ‘ready’ status? If the aggressors have superior technology, it’s entirely possible an attack could be launched against us that may find us woefully unprepared.”  
“Typical Andorian thinking.” Mused Liam silently. He then smiled to himself. “Bless him, that’s just the kind of attitude I want.”  
Aloud Liam replied, “You’re quite correct of course, but as I said, I have a fair inkling of what we’re dealing with and if I’m right, I doubt an attack is imminent. More likely our quarry is on the run, thing is...by what method and to where? And bear in mind, there are hostages involved. It would be preferable to retrieve them without them becoming collateral damage. But as unfortunate as that would be, we have to negate the aggressor.”  
“Aggressor? You believe it’s a single individual?”  
“I do, yes. But I hasten to add, I have no conclusive evidence, just a lot of loose threads that seem to be leading to the same source. Now that could be a really odd coincidence, but I don’t think so. I’ve been in this business too long to ignore what seems to me to be blatantly bloody obvious. Besides, it’ll do no harm to track this down. If I’m wrong, at least we can eliminate it from our search.”  
“So,” said the calm yet hard voice, “how will you initiate the search? What are you looking for?”  
Liam grinned and shook his head. “Sorry, my friend. There are some things I can’t divulge. I can allow you to be privy only to that which you need to know to get your job done. Nothing more than that.”  
There was a momentary, tense silence before the 2IC slowly nodded. He said nothing. Liam directed his attention back to his instruments and, bypassing the usual voice-activated computer control, manually brought on line a rather remarkable example of cutting-edge Federation technology, something Liam had ‘bargained’ for, then ‘borrowed’ from an alien species and given to the Federation’s R&D department. The result was an astonishing example of cunning reverse engineering. In essence, his ship was going to literally sniff out the quarry’s flight path.  
From the bow of the sleek craft two thin, flexible, whisker-like rods appeared. Once fully extended to a length of seven metres, the ends deployed, turning clockwise and opening outwards with petal shaped cups. The ‘heads’ rotated slowly and funnelled any particulate matter, no matter how microscopic, into a collector which in turn, fed the matter down the tubes and into a analyser. The system exploited the one common factor in all space faring craft. No matter what kind of propulsion was used, there were always two tell-tale traces left in the ‘wake’. One was microscopic particles so small they had yet to be given a name and the other a miniscule disturbance of the fabric of space itself. Until the system had been studied and modified, these two factors were unheard of and the scientists involved in discovering them were understandably shocked when they were found. But the potential in terms of keeping ahead of any rivals on a technological basis was enormous. All that had to be done was to spread a rumour about the Federation and some kind of mysterious new technology. So far it had worked and none of the usual suspects had even stirred from their home worlds to harass the Federation. Its ships went unmolested within their own territory, although it was a false calm. Soon enough one of the discontented worlds would make a foray for no better reason than to try and goad a Federation ship into using the new technology it was assumed all Federation ships now had and therefore show their hand. Unfortunately, only a very select few ‘development’ ships possessed the technology. The trick was to hold off as long as possible before fitting the entire fleet, because the R&D teams had indicated there was more to come from the base system. Apparently the next generation of these sensory analysers would be even more sophisticated.   
Liam grinned as he watched the results scrolling across his small screen. “And all it cost was a traitor.” He thought with cold satisfaction. “And she got what she deserved.”  
He settled in and inputted a specific search pattern, his eyes never leaving the screen. There was nothing of note yet, but that could change at any moment and when it did he had to be ready.

 

The last thing Beverly wanted to do was eat. Having spent the last half an hour assisting Meredith in rubbing a variety of creams into the skin of her entire body, then enduring an thankfully brief sexual episode with the woman, when she’d suddenly announced they were to have ‘dinner’ a very reluctant Beverly had to put on an enthusiastic face and sit, naked, at a sickeningly romantically dressed table in a oddly stark dining room, candlelit and festooned with overly perfumed flowers and sentimental claptrap.  
The also naked Meredith sat at one end of the modest-sized table, her attempts at coquettishness making Beverly feel nauseous. She so desperately wanted to enquire after Jean-Luc but feared Meredith’s reaction. The mood had been so carefully set...so stage managed, Beverly knew instinctively any intrusion into Meredith’s fantasy could prove fatal for Jean-Luc.  
So with an equally alluring smile on her face and making the mandatory overtly suggestive gestures in the way she ate her food, somehow Beverly made it through the meal, but if asked later what she’d actually eaten, she would be unable to say.  
It was over dessert, taken in the sumptuous lounge that Beverly risked saying, albeit obliquely, “I’ve been thinking about my medical skills.”  
Meredith raised one non-existent eyebrow and speared Beverly with a look the doctor found hard to identify. With her spoon poised half way to her mouth, Meredith said quietly, “You can’t seriously expect me to believe your medical skills have declined in any way?” The woman smiled, but it was a cold expression. “You know damned well you’re the best in the business, my dear Beverly. Even the fucker, Picard knows that. Why else would you be on his scow of a ship...apart from the fact he wanted you for himself, of course?”  
Maintaining a smile of her own, Beverly lowered her eyes and allowed a flush of modest delight at the compliments, despite the undercurrent of implied menace.  
“Yes, well that’s very kind of you, Meredith...my dear one, but I’ve been away from the ship for some time and I’ve had no access to the plethora of medical journals...contact with SFM and fellow doctors...you know...the usual chitchat. You’d be surprised at how much information is shared through intership communiqués.”  
Her smile taking on a superior smugness, Meredith rose from her chair with sinuous grace and perched on the arm of Beverly’s chair. As the doctor watched warily, but disguising her wariness with an expression of contentment, Meredith proceeded to spoon feed Beverly the remains of her dessert. Only when the bowl was empty did Meredith speak.  
“Beverly...once you have been to the Fen, you won’t have any need for journals or any chitchat with your fellow doctor friends. As a matter of fact...you will see just how small their minds are...how stunted and insular their thinking is. You will so far removed from their little world my sweet one...you will soar, Beverly...with me among the pantheon of the Gods.”  
Risking an unknown reaction, Beverly said carefully, “Is that what you are now, Meredith? A God?”  
The woman stared down at Beverly, her expression unreadable, but her odd eyes sent shivers of dread down Beverly’s spine.   
“I might as well be, Beverly. Compared to anything you know...I stand alone, unique and precious. And soon you will stand with me and once you are my true equal mentally and physically, we will exist in a world never before dreamed of by mere mortals. If that’s not God-like, what is?”  
Lifting a hand and struggling to keep the tremor of fear from showing, Beverly tenderly touched Meredith’s cheek, saying reverently, “I can’t wait.” Then she sighed and said matter-of-factly, “But alas, in the mean time, I really would like to keep my skills up to scratch.”  
Meredith stared down implacably for some tense moments before saying with obvious distaste, “Picard.”  
Shrugging as if the word meant nothing, Beverly said off-handedly, “Well he is injured. It’d be handy to use him as a test subject.”  
Meredith grunted softly through her nostrils. “A specimen more likely. Or...a lump of meat that just happens to be able to vocalise his pain! Ha! Yeah...I can see why you’d be interested. All right. Once we’ve finished our dinner, while I take care of some...details...you can have a little play time with that shit-stick. Mind you, I want to hear him scream! That kind of music is my favourite.”  
The implication was clear. If Jean-Luc didn’t scream in agony, Meredith was going to come and see why he wasn’t and of course she would make sure he soon did...and she may not be too pleased with Beverly for not complying with her not-so-tacit instructions. Now painted into a corner, Beverly had no option but to smile riantly and give a sly wink, all the while combating a rebelling stomach. And of course...dinner was not yet over. Just what that meant, Beverly had no idea, but she doubted it boded well for her and by association, her baby.

 

As the smooth, cylindrical object was finally removed from Beverly’s vagina, Meredith’s tongue uncoiled from around the poor woman’s clit. How Beverly had managed to make a convincing show of orgasmic ecstasy she couldn’t say. All she knew was if Meredith had cause for suspicion...if she had any inkling Beverly was ‘faking it’ Jean-Luc’s life would be forfeit. As for her own life...Beverly had no doubt she’d be ‘punished’ but she was fairly certain Meredith wouldn’t go as far as to kill her. Then again, the woman was clearly insane. Beverly could only hope her deep obsession with her would act as some kind of mental breaking system...a counterbalance to her incredible capacity for both violence and cruelty.  
The gently pressure of Meredith’s hands on Beverly’s head made the doctor close her eyes. She knew what the woman wanted and made the mistake of hesitating. It was only a very slight gesture, but Meredith picked it up immediately. The pressure of those unhuman hands with their unnaturally long fingers increased to a point where Beverly cried out softly, saying brokenly, “I was just recovering, Meredith. I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t want to...”  
The terrible pressure on her skull ceased but the sudden gentle stroking of her hair was such a shift in behaviour, Beverly scrambled to keep up.  
“Oh...my sweet Beverly. I’m so sorry. How could I have thought otherwise? Of course you were overwhelmed. You get your breath back; I’ll amuse myself...for a few moments anyway, until you’re ready.”  
The inference was clear. Don’t make me wait too long. Bolstering herself with thoughts of her beloved husband, Beverly looked into Meredith’s eyes and smiled her gratitude. Then, after a moment or two, she slowly...doing her best to be provocatively kittenish, slid down the length of the woman’s extraordinary body and took her elongated and engorged clit into her mouth. It wasn’t in an classically phallic-shape, but was formed into a thick, short stalk with a perfectly spherical shape at its end. As it entered Beverly’s mouth it changed shape again, reforming into a sinuous, muscular shape that forcibly reminded Beverly of a very large Earth slug. It even seemed to exude slime, but Beverly quickly put that thought from her mind as she knew by now that Meredith could extract any amount of mucous from her Bartolin’s glands. What Beverly concentrated on, fiercely and single-mindedly was Jean-Luc and how he delighted in Beverly giving him this particular gift. Their lovemaking was never boring, it took many and varied forms and oral sex played its part for both of them. Indeed, both Jean-Luc and Beverly were wont, without warning, to afford one or the other with an oral ‘assault’ as clear and welcomed signal of more to come. It may be within minutes or hours, but lovemaking was on the agenda and each hungered for it...and the building sexual tension the game elicited.  
Beverly had always been good at oral sex, she had always enjoyed the knowledge of the pleasure she was giving and yes, she also admitted she enjoyed the power she had over her partner. Jean-Luc, though, had proven a challenge. He was well endowed, but so had her late husband been, so making the necessary adjustment to accommodate Jean-Luc hadn’t been difficult, but this thing now in her mouth and writhing down her throat was testing even Beverly’s strong willpower. The urge to gag was growing too hard to deny. Beverly could only imagine what would happen if she abruptly vomited the recently eaten meal all over Meredith’s genitalia.  
Fortunately it never happened. But Beverly came so close, she actually swallowed the vomit that shot up her oesophagus and hit the tip of Meredith’s clit. But as the woman was in the throes of her orgasm, Beverly was able to lift her head just a little and force the contents of her stomach back down. So Meredith couldn’t see Beverly’s greenish pallor, the doctor took the woman in her arms and held her, astonished when Meredith reached between them to continue to bring herself to several more orgasms.   
Finally, Meredith sighed and rolled onto her back, staring up at the images of Beverly that covered all the surfaces of the walls and ceiling. “You know...” She said absently, not even out of breath, “Once you’re like me, we’ll be able to stay in orgasm as long as we want.”  
The madwoman turned her head and Beverly couldn’t describe the look in Meredith’s eyes. “Do you understand, my sweet Beverly? Can you understand?”   
Beverly never got the opportunity to reply. With suddenness that completely disconcerted the red head, Meredith’s expression abruptly changed. And it was pity Beverly saw.  
“Of course you can’t...my poor Beverly, but soon...soon my love...”  
She rolled onto her side and ran frankly appraising eyes over Beverly’s naked body. It annoyed and angered Beverly, but she showed no outward sign. Meredith sighed and said grudgingly, “I can see why Picard would find you attractive.” She quickly held up one hand. “Don’t misunderstand me, Beverly, you are gorgeous, but men...” she said the word with distaste, “Are incapable of seeing a woman with all their senses. They see only a walking pair of tits with a cunt. Something to stick their cocks into while they maul the receptacle’s tits. No, Beverly, my sweet one, only another woman can truly see your real beauty, not just the physical, but the inner beauty...the essence of you.”  
She smiled then and Beverly couldn’t help but feel the sliver of dread and fear slide down her spine. “But of course once I take you to my friends and you can choose how you might like to look...” Her words said one thing, but her eyes clearly said another. This was quickly proven to be true as Meredith said casually, “But of course with me being perfect, I can’t think why you’d choose to look any different to me...” The smile stayed in place but her eerie eyes glittered with implied threat, “But still...the choice is yours....”  
The eyes cleared and shone with excitement. Beverly found it so hard to keep up with these shifts. “Then, after a visit to the Fen...”, Meredith enthused,  
Beverly dared to interrupt. “Meredith...who is the Fen?”  
The muscles of Meredith’s jaw bunched and her large hands fisted reflexively. With a concerted effort the insane woman somehow regained control. “The Fen is...the Fen...” With a brusque shake of her hairless head, Meredith made a cutting gesture with her hand.  
“It doesn’t matter! Once you’ve been to see my friends and you have your new body and you’ve visited the Fen, you’ll be like me! Then, Beverly, my precious one, we will live as Gods. We will soar, Beverly we will experience sensual pleasures...love...like none other has ever even dreamed possible. We will have everything we’ve ever wanted, Beverly for we will have each other.”  
Keeping calm with a Herculean effort, Beverly smiled gently and asked, “And we will live here, in your home?”  
“Yes!” Meredith exclaimed triumphantly. Then again came the unsettling shift. Her eyes narrowed and malicious anger showed in her expression. “But before I can bestow my gifts upon you I have to...take care of one or two things. So I’m going to have to leave for a little while. Once I have ensured our privacy, I will take you on your journey of transformation. Then, Beverly my lover, when I again bring you home you will be...reborn. And our new lives together can begin.”  
Making herself comfortable, Meredith lazily raised one arm. “Come, sleep with me, Beverly.”  
The doctor took a terrible risk and smiled her refusal. “If it’s all right with you, Meredith, my wonderful one, I would really like to go and...”  
The undisguised malice and threat in the one word made Beverly’s heart race with terror.  
“Picard.”  
All Beverly could do was nod, but she did eventually find her voice. She chose her words carefully. “Meredith, may I please go and...play...with my specimen?”  
The monosyllabic reply did nothing to alleviate Beverly’s fear.  
“Yes.”  
Still risking an unknown fate, Beverly asked demurely, “And may I have a medical tricorder, please?”  
“What for?!” Meredith spat. “You’re only going to practice on the fucker!”  
Yes,” Beverly said patiently, “But I need to know what to practice on. The obvious injuries I can see, but the internal ones?” She shrugged. “To see the internal damage I need a medical tricorder.”  
The anger in Meredith’s expression turned abruptly to anticipatory glee. She nodded, saying quietly, “It’ll be on the bench.”  
The doctor smiled her thanks but it wasn’t until Beverly reached the bathroom door that Meredith’s quietly spoken, yet coldly threatening voice momentarily stopped her.  
“Just make sure he screams loud enough for me to hear. I like to go sleep hearing my favourite kind of music.”  
Plastering a smile on her face, Beverly somehow managed to wink. “You bet!” She said jauntily. As the bathroom door hissed shut, Beverly momentarily shut her eyes and regained control over her rebelling stomach. She knew when she opened them she would see her lover on the bathroom floor. Whether or not he was still alive...she was about to find out. She’d only had Meredith’s oblique references to suggest he still was.

 

Liam growled softly. “Shit.” And once again looked at the extrapolated course the computer had generated as a result of the ‘trail’ the unidentified vessel had left. As it seemed to be taking no evasive manoeuvres, he could only surmise the pilot was either unaware of the Federation’s new capabilities in tracking or was so arrogant as to believe their technology was sufficient to make them invisible which of course amounted to much the same thing.  
It was the evident star system the craft seemed to be headed for that had caused Liam’s softly spoken curse. There were few inhabited planets within it and of those one in particular, who just happened to govern the others, he knew was not going to be very helpful when the time came for the inevitable ‘enquiries’.  
“So,” He thought to himself. “I have about three days to create an individual who has enough demonstrable wealth to buy my way in immediately...with the obligatory resume, of course. Shit!” He swore again, then sighed. “Well, it’s not as if I haven’t had harder things to do in my time.” Shaking his head, he began his task, muttering softly, “At least I might not have to...eliminate any planetary officials this time...I hope.”  
Not being able to utilise his Starfleet contacts, Liam had to create his new persona, somehow compile a bogus but authentic looking portfolio of his ‘wealth’ and make it so both would withstand some pretty stringent scrutiny and put together an equally false yet water-tight resume, not an easy task with what he had at hand, But Liam was a man who had lived most of his adult life on the edge, going from one difficult situation to another. The ability to adapt was one of his strengths. This situation was no different to so many others. Yes, it posed its own difficulties, but Liam knew he could overcome them. His only impediment was time. He knew, even before entering the star system, their vessels would be hailed. It would be then that the game would commence. He smiled and his nostrils flared as if he could smell the scent of his prey. It was a game, no doubt, but a very deadly one and the life of his oldest and best friend was in the balance. High stakes, but this time personal ones, not political. That changed the playing field as far as Liam was concerned. A predatory gleam lit his eyes as he worked. “Once I’m in, you’ll never know what hit you.” He murmured. The Andorian turned and looked at Liam through the mirror. Something was afoot and his body tensed. Soon he would know what was required of him. Until then, like his teams...he waited.

 

The interplanetary observation officer watched as the two small craft hurtled at astonishing speed towards the outer edges of her system. So fast were they travelling she barely had time to issue the polite but stern 'request' to halt before the vessels were actually at their borders. 

Liam grinned coldly, sat back and interlocked his fingers above his head on outstretched arms. "So, the dance begins."

"Unidentified vessels; please come to a complete stop and provide your bonafides."

That made one of Liam's ginger and grey eyebrows rise. "Bonafides? That's a new one. How euphemistic. "He thought to himself.

He kept his derision from his voice as he said with confident surety, "Bonafides? I can assure you I am not accustomed to being asked to present 'Bonafides' or anything else!"

The officer was unfazed. "That may be so, sir, but it is a requirement of entering this system that your Bonafides be presented for appraisal."

Liam's grin grew, but it didn't show in his voice. "I see. And just what is involved in these 'Bonafides?"

"We require a resume of all beings on the two craft, we require a current financial breakdown of the prime individual of the party and we require, should we find the prime individual acceptable, a payment to ameliorate your entry into our system. Once that has been received, your vessels may enter, however, you will have no landing rights until all the produced information has been thoroughly checked and ratified."

"I see. Well, I can provide all that information pertaining to myself, but all the other beings on my vessels are my staff. I do not intend, in fact I will not provide any information on beings who are nothing but my employees."

There was a lengthy silence before the female voice sounded once more. "Very well, that is acceptable. Please send your information to the office I am sending input codes to."

Adopting tight, annoyed impatience, Liam said bluntly, "And just how long am I supposed to sit here like some kind of flotsam? I have business to attend to, very important business! In fact..." His voice dropped to a deep rumble. "I would be...amenable to providing an...incentive...to any individual or individuals who could...expedite matters."

Liam had worked in his line of business too long to miss both the avarice and the prevarication in the female's voice.

"Well...as it turns out, I know a family who've just suffered a terrible bereavement which has left them all but destitute. Perhaps if you could..."

Liam's voice gave no hint of his disgust. "And how many of these poor souls are there?"

"Oh! It was an unusually large family...fifteen in all, ranging in age from an infant right up to university age children. So you see their needs are many and varied."

"So a 'gift' of say...a thousand bars of pure latinum would help?"

The female actually spluttered. "A thousand bars? Of pure latinum? "

"I believe that's what I said." Liam said casually. "Of course I would have to insist this...endowment...be kept strictly confidential. If my business competitors learned of my...soft heart...well, I wouldn't be in business very much longer, now would I?"

The female had quickly regained her composure. He could hear the smug smile in her voice. "No, they wouldn't. Well! If you would be so kind as to make the...discreet deposit into the account I am sending by an encrypted algorithm, I'll be sure to see the family gets it immediately and may I say, on their behalf as you wish to remain anonymous, thank you. Generosity such as yours...well it's a rarity these days."

"Not within the Federation, you avaricious bitch!" Liam thought to himself, his face contorted into a grimace of anger and disgust. His eyes made note of his computer's dismantling of the so-called encrypted algorithm and sent what was a completely bogus deposit. The female would never know, not until she tried to withdraw any of the 'funds' all for herself, of course. At that time the planetary authorities would be alerted. Not that it would do any good. An incentive payment by the woman or her family would soon have the entire situation disappear. By then Liam would have either resolved his situation, or had gathered the information he needed to carry on with his search.

His permission to enter the system and indeed land on the prime planet was given within mere seconds. He smiled grimly. Looking up at the mirror he saw the Andorian was already watching him. Giving a slight nod, Liam let his 2IC know to adopt a 'ready' stance. The Australian felt the level of tension rise a bit further. His little finger nail became almost non-existent within seconds.

 

 

Crouching beside her shivering, gently moaning lover, Beverly deployed the module from the medical tricorder she'd found just where Meredith had said it would be. Whispering urgently, she said, "Jean-Luc...can you hear me?"

Before he could answer, Beverly said "Whisper, my love, whatever you do, don't speak aloud."

He nodded and whispered huskily, "Yes, I can hear you." He managed to ease one hand free of his body and took her nearest hand. "Help, Beverly, please...help me..."

Blinking away her tears, Beverly whispered harshly, "Scream!"

Confused, Jean-Luc was about to ask why when Beverly hissed quickly, "If Meredith doesn't hear you scream...and convincingly, she'll come in and make you scream for real!"

He frowned, but his implicit trust in his lover removed any doubt. Opening his mouth as wide as his broken jaw allowed, he screamed. It such a hideous sound, Beverly was tempted to cover her ears. Only the knowledge he was not being tortured helped her. As he took another shallow breath, Beverly advised, "Whimper...beg me to stop, combine everything to convince the mad bitch I'm hurting you."

Jean-Luc nodded and screamed again, this time descending into piteous whimpering and soft pleading for mercy. Loudly Beverly said with uncharacteristic coldness, "You want mercy, you fucking bastard? Here, I'll show you the same kind of mercy you showed me!" 

With an encouraging nod to her lover he screamed again and again and while he did, Beverly scanned him thoroughly. As he carried on his sham, Beverly used the med kit to do what she could for his internal injuries. It was nowhere near enough, he was seriously injured, but it would do, it would prolong his life significantly...provided Meredith didn't decide to 'play' with him again. As for his external injuries she could do very little. If she healed them, Meredith would question why, unless she thought, in her madness that Beverly had restored the man so he could be tortured again. 

Mouthing, "Sorry." and with tears in her eyes, all Beverly could do was create a very thin seal over the raw ends of his fingers, toes and the tip of his nose. It wasn't enough to stop the intense pain he felt every time the damaged tissue came into contact with anything, but it would help a little.

Jean-Luc was still screaming when Meredith made a sudden unannounced entry into the bathroom. Beverly moved quickly, her face a mask of cruelty. Shouting she said, "And as for fucking me time and time again..." She grabbed his testicles and squeezed viciously. This time Jean-Luc's s screams were genuine. The large hand that easily encircled Beverly's bicep hauled her to her feet with the same ease.

"Enough! All that lovely music has made me want you. Come with me...now!"

Beverly was all but dragged to the bed and thrown onto it. As Meredith went to climb onto the bed, she bent and picked something up. When Beverly saw it she couldn't stifle the whimper. Fortunately Meredith took it as a sound of anticipatory lust.

"Yes!" She said triumphantly. "Isn't it beautiful!" As she spoke she rotated the object in her hands. It was a monstrous dildo, with protrusions and soft spikes all along it's length and at its base was a clitoral stimulator the likes of which Beverly had never seen.

Meredith got on the bed and grabbed Beverly's ankles, forcing her legs apart. Reaching between her own legs, Meredith squeezed out copious amounts of mucous which she spread all over the huge sex toy. The shock that had taken Beverly's mind suddenly disappeared. "NO!" She shouted.

Confused, Meredith spat, "Shut up! Once this is inside you the only thing I want to hear is you screaming in ecstasy!" She used the fingers of one hand to splay Beverly's labia and began to slide the huge instrument inside her. Beverly rolled sideways, yelling, "No! I don't want to!"

Sighing, but not stopping, Meredith said impatiently, "Don't worry about me, I don't mind going second!"

Using all the strength she possessed, Beverly hitched her hips backwards and scuttled up the bed, dislodging the dildo. A clearly furious Meredith shouted, "What the fuck are you doing? Get back here and spread your fucking legs!"

Mutely, Beverly shook her head. Finally Meredith saw the fear in the doctor's eyes. "Hey..." She said in a much calmer tone. "It won't hurt...well not too much. Once you get used to it, especially once you've been reborn, you'll be begging me for it! Trust me, when it gets last your cervix and pushes up against the far wall of your uterus...oh God! If you think your clit and G spot give you the jollies, just wait until you come with all three combined. I'll have to peel you off the ceiling!" 

 

Still Beverly stayed at the head of the bed, her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped defensively around her. Meredith began to grow suspicious.

"What's the matter with you?" Meredith said with quiet deadliness. "You're hiding something! What aren't you telling me?"

When Beverly said nothing, Meredith turned her attention to the gigantic dildo. Her eyes narrowed and Beverly's heart began to accelerate. The question Meredith asked was so coldly put, Beverly couldn't keep the tears from her eyes.

"You're pregnant?"

All Beverly could do was nod. At first Meredith did nothing, then, in a blur of motion, she exited the bed and began to beat Beverly with the dildo, screeching, "You fucking whore! How could you let that shit pile fuck you and keep the parasite he left in you? You fucking cunt!"

Then, as abruptly as it'd begun, the beating stopped and a contrite Meredith sat on the bed, tenderly taking Beverly into her arms and stroking her hair.

"Oh...my poor Beverly. He raped you so many times, didn't he. And he made you remove your implant, didn't he? Oh...my poor, poor Beverly. What you've been through."

She left the bed and looked down at the still defensively curled Beverly. 

"Don't worry, my precious one. I'll go and make him pay, then I'll rid you of the parasite." She winked and grinned. "I'll be back in a few minutes." She then frowned, looking at the dildo. "I would've liked more time..."

She left quickly, Beverly again too shocked to move, but as she heard her beloved Jean-Luc's screams, she was spurred into action. She made it to the bathroom to find Meredith had kicked the poor man into semi-consciousness and was in the process of brutally shoving the dildo through his anus and into his rectum. Beverly grabbed Meredith's shoulders, trying valiantly to drag the vastly stronger woman from her lover, but Meredith merely chuckled and shouted, "How does it feel, you fucker? Eh? Not so good to be on the receiving end eh?"

Just then Meredith froze, her head tilted to one side. In her mind she heard her computer say, "Warning! Hostile forces have breached planetary security. Discovery imminent."

Coming to her feet abruptly, Meredith looked down at Beverly and Jean-Luc's battered and violated body.

"I have to go." She said absently. "The house is secure, so is the property. Don't try to use the communication system, it's configured to my DNA and voice. I'll retune soon..." her eyes, as flat as glacial stones, she added," I'll take care of the parasite then."

As Beverly watched, Meredith lifted her hand and spoke to her wrist. "Bring me aboard." She disappeared silently.

 

 

 

The quiet alarm coincided with the softly strobing red light on Liam's console. He spoke around his little finger, the rusty tang of blood in his mouth.

"Report."

"Target vessel is leaving orbit. Propulsion is being engaged. I am not able..."

As Liam looked on in awe the 'target vessel' simply vanished. There was no warp bubble, no evidence of slip drive...one second the vessel was there and the next...

 

Liam drew his calloused hand over his lips, wishing fervently for an icy-cold beer. "Well it doesn't matter how fast you can run...or where you run to. It may take us time...but we have the ability to follow you."

 

 

By now, Meredith was of course aware of the ability of her pursuers to track her. That was not a concern. She wasn't running to escape. She was readying to set up an ambush...one this time she would ensure wouldn't fail. She would never admit to making a mistake or even the possibility she may have underestimated her enemies...yet she took particular care with her plans.

This time her...their...privacy would be assured, for nothing would be left of her pursuers, not even at the quantum state of a Boson.

Having travelled the required distance, Meredith brought her vessel to a halt. Knowing her first attempt had malfunctioned...again she couldn't admit any failure on her part, she connected the cable to her portal and sat quietly, eyes closed while she concentrated. Her answer came relatively quickly and she smiled at both its simplicity and elegance. Humming happily to herself, she thought, "Well, seeing as you seem to have got your hands on some pretty whizz-bang technology, no doubt you'll be looking for something matching...or more sophisticated. I wonder if some really old fashioned ploys might work where sparkly, shiny technology wouldn't?"

Her humming continued as she had her computer replicate two bodies, something, Federation replicators couldn't do. But of course, Meredith wasn't using Federation technology...she hadn't for a very long time. 

With both bodies lying on the deck, she stuffed the hollow insides with a very powerful, yet almost undetectable explosive, making sure the amount equalled the known weight of the..specimens. All that would be needed to trigger the matter was a tricorder. And seeing the two bodies were exact replicas of Jean-Luc and Beverly, the first thing the 'rescuers' would do would be to scan them to verify their identity...Meredith laughed delightedly. "The very thing you want to do...to make sure the bodies are those of your 'dear' friends...will be the method of your death! How ironic is that?"

She knew about Liam. Not everything, but enough. She knew it was no 'normal' Starfleet group on her tail, not even section 31. Just what Liam Dogovich did and with whom she didn't know, nor did she care. After all, like every other living being, he was no match for her! 

With the 'bodies' packed with their load of explosives, dressed appropriately in the clothing they were wearing when taken from Marena and their flesh showing the ravages of being in space, Meredith jettisoned the decoys then engaged her craft and left the area, knowing her superior sensors would tell her when the expected explosions occurred.

 

 

Lagging several hours behind, the 'sniffer' deployed, a tired Liam was sitting in the cockpit, his bare feet propped on the console while his seat, canted back, allowed him to rest his head on the padded surface. Balanced on his bare chest was a frosty glass, but each long sip brought a grimace. "Rat's piss." He muttered darkly. He lifted the glass and glared at it, as if he could magically transform the synthahol equivalent of his favourite brew into the real thing. 

The computer's soft, male voice brought Liam back upright, the glass tossed aside.

"Two objects detected. Height and weight suggests organic bodies."

Lima's stomach soured. "Life signs?"

"None detected. Body temperatures near zero degrees."

"No..." Liam whispered. Louder he ordered, his voice trembling, "Computer, once we're in range, beam one body into each vessel. If possible, beam the male body, if there is one, into this vessel."

"Acknowledged."

Opening a channel to the sister craft, Liam passed on his information. The instructions were to scan the remains with a tricorder, loaded with the biological information of Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher. Once verification was made, they would continue their pursuit.

 

It took just on an hour to achieve transporter range. As the 'body' of his old friend materialised on the deck, Liam couldn't stop the tears welling in his eyes. It was the sudden whooping of the sirens that made him whirl around. 

"Report!"

While Liam readied himself to respond to whatever the computer told him, the Andorian male had deployed his tricorder and was just about to begin the sad duty of identifying the remains of Jean-Luc Picard.

"Red alert! Imminent danger of catastrophic explosion! Transport object back into space and engage the molecular hull transformation and full shields immediately!"

Liam acted instantly while at the same time shouting, "Has the same warning been given to...?" 

He never got to finish his urgently shouted question. His ship was hurled end-over-end as a massive explosion occurred nearby. He didn't have to ask, he knew without a shadow of doubt, the sister ship along with her crew had just been obliterated. It wasn't until the on board computer had regained attitude control and the injured, caused by the occupants of the vessel being tossed about violently like corks in a turbulent sea that Liam was able to interrogate the computer.

"Right! What the hell happened?"

"The objects beamed aboard were organic, and almost indistinguishable from an authentic human cadaver, however, the 'C' variation of the sensor device picked up traces of a rarely used explosive material. Those two all be it seemingly unconnected pieces of evidence gave enough proof to issue the alert. Also, now having had the opportunity to further analyse the microscopic traces of the explosive material, I can inform you it was triggered by the electromagnetic discharge from the tricorders used to scan the 'corpses' to verify identification."

"Bloody hell!" Shouted an incensed Liam. He was interrupted by the computer.

"There were in fact, two explosions, almost simultaneous. The first was the sister ship, followed three microseconds later by the second detonation, which was the object you had successfully beamed off the ship. If not for the deployment of the molecular hull transformation and shields at maximum, this ship would not have survived either detonation."

Wiping his hands over his recently repaired face, the facial cuts still tender and   
would in time, turn into yet more scar tissue, Liam stated the obvious.

"A trap then.?” 

"In the face of the evidence, I cannot see how it could not have been a deliberately orchestrated attempt to eliminate both ships and their respective crews."

"A simply 'yes' would've sufficed." He said grumpily. His next question was curt. "Report!"

"The sister ship no longer exists. The 'C' version of the sensor system is picking up what is thought to be phased Bosons, but in such small quantities...it is a hypothesis only. As for this ship, it will require a self-repair and should be ready to resume space flight in approximately three hours. Awaiting orders to initiate self-repair."

 

"Do it!" Liam had spent almost his entire adult life maintaining control. Be it over himself, or his mission, control was the cornerstone of his character and his 'work'. But now he was furious....murderously so. Not only had his 'quarry' twice tried to kill him and his crews but now she -and yes, he was almost certain now-she had succeeded in destroying one of his ships and in the process, killed that ship's crew........ People who served faithfully under his command obliterated into mere nothingness. And his best friend...and his partner were still in her hands...or so he hoped. The fact she'd used facsimiles instead of the real thing to deliver the explosives...he could only hope was a good sign. 

To use the time it would take for the computer to carry out the repairs...another little 'innovation' on his ship, he decided to do some digging. "Computer, do we still have intra-subspace communication capabilities"

"Yes." 

"Then I want to talk to Magenta."

"Initiating."

"Wait time?"

"Seven minutes."

"Fine. Decrypt as it arrives."

"Warning! SOP requires current authorisation protocols!"

Liam sneered and spat some blood into his hand then wiped it on his pants.

"Given the current circumstances, do you really think our adversary isn't fully aware of our security protocols? You do recall our level seven security was circumvented with seemingly little effort on Marena?"

 

"Your point is taken, Commodore, however, I wish it noted that this action is undertaken despite my explicit warning."

Grumbling under his breath, Liam said sarcastically, "Since when did fucking computers get so damned high-and-mighty? Jesus, you'd think they actually ran things!" louder he said curtly, "So noted!"

His sour anger vanished as a crew member, her uniform tattered and torn appeared at his side and said with quiet dignity, "Commodore Dogovich, Lieutenant Commander Varell-hos didn't make it, sir. And it's unlikely Ensign Barolli will either...but he’s a fighter..."

Closing his eyes briefly, Liam felt the physical pain of losing those under his command. He had not yet allowed himself to register the loss of the sister ship's crew, but the Andorian, Varell-hos and the young ensign, Barolli were here, with him, only metres away. The fury resurfaced just as the computer said, "Connection established. Encryption disabled."

Liam lowered himself into the broken cockpit chair and activated the screen of his monitor. It remained black, as he knew it would. Neither his code name or that of his superior would be mentioned.

"Yes?" Came the disembodied voice, unidentifiable as male or female.

"I have a serious problem."

"Go on."

"I require information. At this point secrecy and/or security is moot, she knows we're on to her."

"Proceed."

"Her name is Meredith Bower."

"She is known to us."

"Then you would be aware she has all but disappeared off the radar. However it is my belief she was behind the recent incident on Ferenginar, involving ....Nrug, and the equally recent murder of Eron’i and subsequent infiltration of Starfleet's flight schedules for the Enterprise. So far, if I'm right, she's been responsible for the deaths of at least fifteen people and, again, if I'm right, she's holding two Starfleet officers, one highly placed and integral to...operations."

"We understand. Your plan?"

"She must've have altered her appearance significantly. If we can locate where it was done, we would at least know what she looks like now. However, I am almost certain she has been to the Fen."

"That makes things difficult."

"I know, but again, if we can find it, we may gain a way to control her."

"Do you have any idea where she is?"

"Yes. But at present she is in her vessel. As yet we have no idea what kind of propulsion it uses, other than the fact it travels faster than anything we've ever encountered. All we have to study are the sub micron particles and the subspace disturbance left in the ship's wake."

"Yes, we know about that. We have discovered where she may have...obtained the technology. No doubt you will have work to do when you have resolved this...issue."

"Then you will provide me with all the information you can get?"

"Yes, although I should make it clear we are aware of the...personal nature of your motivation to resolve this matter. Do not allow that to interfere with your work."

Ignoring the cold instruction, Liam asked calmly,

"Then I have your permission to proceed?"

"Yes. Take whatever steps you deem necessary to bring this to a...permanent conclusion. In the interim, we will locate and provide the information you require"

The screen reverted to its standby blue and Liam smiled with predatory satisfaction. "Right, you bitch. You're gone!"

 

 

Many light years away a furious Meredith, the cable snaking from the portal, glared as the information was fed into her brain. As the situation became clear she began to say, softly at first but with quickly growing volume....

"Fuck, fuck....FUCK, FUCK, FUCK !!! No! How could you have escaped?" She stood, wishing to pace, but remembered at the last moment the cable. Controlling herself only long enough to carefully remove it, once free she began to stalk about her vessel, kicking anything that came into her path until she arrived at a special locker. Inside was her knife. Beverly may be the love of her life, but the knife was her one and only friend. Usually she wore it in a specially made scabbard wrapped around her right thigh, but since Beverly had come into her life she had not felt the need to use it, besides, she knew it would make her beloved nervous. Still, had she had it with her before she left, it wouldn't have been the dildo she shoved up Picard's arse. And his severed genitals would've been stuffed down his throat.

She sighed, the murderous fury subsiding. "So," She mused coldly. "The question is...who told you? Who gave you enough warning to prevent the destruction of both vessels? I know it was a near thing...both 'bodies' detonated, but one had been beamed back into space. And why wasn't your ship annihilated anyway? That close to that much explosive..." She whirled around and sat back at her computer, reinserting the cable. Her weird, glittering eyes closed as she began to concentrate.

 

Gently easing her hand under Jean-Luc's beaten and bleeding face, Beverly said softly, "Can you hear me, Jean-Luc?"

He moaned his reply softly and the doctor smiled, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Before I do anything else, I have to remove the dildo from your back passage. I'll be as gentle as possible but there's nothing I can do to stop the pain it'll cause."

Unable to speak, he gave a slight nod of comprehension. Beverly, having gently inspected the site and wincing at the blood and other matter around his anus grasped the end of the dildo, thankfully not inserted to its full length. Using the fingers of her free hand, she eased the tender flesh back a little as she exerted just enough pull to slowly extricate the hideous 'toy'. It came out covered in blood and faeces, having no lubricant used, the delicate mucous membranes of Jean-Luc's rectum and descending colon had adhered to the intrusive device and on removal, tore. 

He bore the pain as best he could, but was unable to contain his grinding moans of agony. When the dildo was finally free of his body, Beverly quickly rose to her feet, saying urgently, "I'll just get a med kit..."

It was her very vociferous and colourful language that let the suffering man know that something was wrong. She reappeared by his side, crouching to speak to him. 

"I'm locked out, my love. I can't get access to anything...all the lockers are sealed with a voice recognition system."

Barely able to make himself heard, and spitting out some broken teeth in the effort, Jean-Luc asked piteously, "There's nothing you can do?"

With tears falling, Beverly replied brokenly, "Only basic first aid with what I have at hand."

"Meaning?" The stricken man asked.

"I'll use what little clothing...material of any kind I can find to make pressure bandages. But..."

He couldn't open his swollen-shut eyes, but he knew, if he'd been able to see Beverly her expression would be disconsolate.

"But what?" He whispered.

Her voice hitched as she told him the horrible truth. "I'm going to have to pack your rectal wounds. The dildo went further then it should've, Jean-Luc. The mucous membranes have been torn and are bleeding. Not too badly, but unless I can stop it, eventually you're going to lose too much and as you're already low on blood and with all your other injuries..."

He simply gave a slight nod of understanding. Beverly left him briefly, inordinately relieved to find her nightie and a few other bits and pieces of lingerie left haphazardly about the bedroom. The material of the nightie was surprisingly strong, necessitating Beverly to have to employ her teeth to begin a tear. In all it took nearly ten minutes to rend the fabric into several 2.5 cm wide strips. She gathered them up and returned to her lover and knelt near his hip. He was lying on his side, his knees drawn up. He'd been like that when she had first found him and she had thought it was a protective posture, but it served her odious purpose. All she need do was ask the poor man to pull his knees higher to give her access to his bleeding anus, but as she gently gripped one of his knees he groaned loudly and attempted to grab her hand.

"No...please..." He whispered hoarsely.

Immediately apprehensive, Beverly said urgently, "What is it, Jean-Luc?"

Tears trickled from under his swollen eyelids. "My testicles...she kept kicking them..."

"Oh God...I'm so sorry, Jean-Luc. Do you think you could stand it if I had a look?"

He swallowed and again offered a slight silent nod.

 

Very gently lifting his leg, at first all she could see was a mess of blood, hair and some cream-coloured, bloody matter. It was only when she used extreme care in moving his bruised, split and swollen penis that she realised the cream-coloured, bloody substance was the epididymis from at least one ruptured testicle. Whether or not both testes were as badly damaged she couldn't tell. 

Taking a deep breath, Beverly said softly, "Well I don't have to tell you how badly you've been injured down there."

A strained grunt was his only response. 

"There's nothing I can do for that, Jean-Luc, it's just not something I can treat without instruments of pharmaceuticals. And I still have to pack your anus and rectum." She sighed and wiped irritably at her tears. They weren't what she wanted now...all she wanted was to ease her lover's pain...and save his life.

"If I rolled up one of these big towels, do you think you could stand it if I put it between your knees? The strips of cloth I'm going to pack inside you are a much thinner fabric and will be that much easier for me to get inside you. If I have just a little bit of room to work in..."

Again the silent nod. Reaching behind her, Beverly snatched at the sodden, bloodied towel that was lying on the cold, tiled floor. She quickly folded, then rolled the towel until it resembled a thick round bolster. Steeling herself, she said quietly,

"Okay, I'm going to do it now. Don't hold anything in, my love. If you need to...you know...yell...then do so. You might find it may help you deal with the pain."

What ensued may well have been the worst physical and emotional trauma for both of them. Yes, Jean-Luc had been abducted, mutilated and had his mind raped by the Borg and he'd been captured and tortured by the reprehensible Cardassian, Gul Madred and in both these terrible instances, it was Beverly who has to put the man she loved back together again, both physically and emotionally, but this...no painkillers, no instruments and no back-up from Deanna Troi to help with the psychological trauma. No. What her beloved Jean-Luc went through, the unspeakable agony was at her hands. 

Twenty-five hideous minutes later Beverly, her hands covered in blood, sat with Jean-Luc's head cradled in her lap. The man was quietly sobbing, his voice ruined by his continual screaming. As Beverly stroked his sweat-covered scalp she cried her own tears, tears of pity, sympathy, anger and impotent self-recrimination. If only she'd have listened to Jean-Luc so long ago...

She was surprised to hear him whisper brokenly, "Hindsight...never helpful. Always twenty-twenty vision."

"How did you know?" She asked incredulously.

Somehow he managed a lopsided smile. "Because I know you."

She leaned down and kissed his brow tenderly. "I love you, Jean-Luc. Now I have to apply the rest of the pressure bandages, but it shouldn't hurt so much...okay?"

"'Kay." Was all he said. When she was finally finished her lover was as comfortable as she could make him under the circumstances. She'd discovered a pile of five towels under an odd-looking basin. Why it wasn't locked she didn't know, but she used them wisely. Jean-Luc was no longer lying on the frigid tiles and he was covered in the thick, fluffy towels, his head resting on the soft material too.

Beverly had managed to get him to drink three cups of water and was now lying beside him, adding her body warmth. After all they'd been through, it wasn't surprising they fell asleep.

 

 

 

Such was the level of concentration required, Meredith regained consciousness several hours after she'd connected herself and let her extraordinary mind expand. As before, her bodily waste soiled the deck and her lower body. She lay quietly for some time, allowing her mind to readjust. 

Rising slowly, she stretched languidly and moved to the shower. In an unhurried fashion she washed herself, then, after applying her creams, set about thoroughly cleaning her vessel. Then, supremely confident in her plan and expecting to have ample time to spare, she showered again, then, simply for the sensual pleasure of it, she again rubbed in her creams, bringing herself to orgasm five times. 

Relaxed and smugly happy she said to the air, "Set course eight-five, mark, two-eight. Engage propulsion at 30%. Upon arrival at set coordinates, activate phase shifter and take up a position within the asteroid designated Gamma 2-1. Once safely inside, re-engage normal configuration and bring online the KSI-1."

The computer's voice carried an inflection of disapprobation when it said "The KSI-1 is unproven technology. It is unwise to make its first use in the intended situation. The effect cannot be anticipated. It was agreed we would test the weapon in more...conducive circumstances"

Swivelling her now clean chair, an unnaturally calm Meredith said with a trace of amusement, "Although it's true we had an...arrangement..." The computer tried to interrupt. "It was not an 'arrangement' it was...

Meredith's glittering, eerie eyes lost their amused look. "Who do you belong to?"

The reproach in the computer's voice was unmistakable. "To you, Meredith."

"Yes, you do. Now I'm telling you it was an arrangement we had, not an agreement!" She took a calming breath, trying to recapture the feeling of smug superiority the supercilious computer had almost ruined. "Now of course I know the KSI-1 is experimental...who do you think funded the research? But consider this. Armed with what would be...to all intents and purposes a Varon T disruptor on a fucking HUGE scale...why the fuck wouldn't I choose to test it on those who are determined to destroy everything I've worked for? Everything I endured? I have what I want now and those fuckers want to take it all away! Well I'm not going to let them! Once I utilise the KSI-1 there'll be nothing left for their petty little covert ops section to find! And while I'm at it, I just might send a little anonymous communiqué to the Federation Council telling them all about Section 31 AND the little cadre of black ops and what they've been up to. Now that should put the cat among the pigeons!"

She stared at the ceiling, a frown forming. Before she could ask, the computer said with barely hidden superiority, "It is a metaphor. It means..."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Screeched Meredith. "Unless you want me to...rearrange your operating systems..."

"That will not be necessary, Meredith. My apologies." The computer said hurriedly and in fear.

Calmer, Meredith said with quiet deadliness, "Just remember your place and never overstep your bounds again. Now...as I was saying, once we reform inside the asteroid , bring the KSI-1 online and as soon as the target in in optimum range, fire."

"Yes, Meredith."

 

 

Having tended to those of his crew who could be patched up enough to be effective once more, Liam grudgingly allowed one of the crew to tend to his injuries. Fortunately nothing too bad, but he was very annoyed to find the little finger of his right hand gone, torn off at the base knuckle much like he'd continually torn at the nail that had once existed at the tip of the now missing finger.

Looking around his small craft, now cleared of the shambolic clutter and blood,Liam said solemnly, "Eject the bodies and all the organic residue. Then I want the sniffer repaired post haste. Until we can find that crazy bitch, sitting here, dead in the water and blind is giving me the shits!"

As it turned out they were exceptionally lucky. The molecular hull transformation and shields had activated just in time, leaving them with more software issues than hardware ones. Still it took five and a half long hours in a poorly ventilated and cooled craft before success was found.

The crew member in charge of the repair had taken her helmet off and grinned at her boss, the four rows of bright blue teeth taking some getting used to.

"All up and running, sir."

Liam gave a mock glare. "There's more to that very toothy grin than a job well done."

Her face mottling puce and tan, the crew member sighed. "Well, yes. The air circulator and scrubber is now working as is the cooling system. Once we're underway, we should be very comfortable...sir."

Liam tried to keep up the gruff persona, but couldn't help the small smile that emerged. "Well done. One thing though..."

All eager, the crew member said enthusiastically, "Yes, sir?"

"Can you get me an authentic bottle...a glass bottle...of frosty cold Victoria Bitter?"

A frown of confusion caused the brow ridges to almost cover her eyes.

"A bottle of what, sir?"

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Liam said tiredly, "It's a beer, crewman, an authentic Australian beer."

"Ah...right. Umm..."

With a wave of his hand, Liam shook his head. "Never mind crewman. Get your team settled, we'll be underway within ten minutes."

Still confused and somewhat annoyed at not knowing what 'Victoria Bitter' was, the crew member went aft to organise what was left of the team. Three individuals, one not really at combat ready. Barolli had been saved, but was still quite weak.

In the cockpit, Liam brought the sniffer online and squinted at the cracked monitor. "So, you mad bitch. Your trail is still there. Attenuating, but still discernible. Once we find you and rescue old Johnny, I'm going to make you pay for each and every life you've taken, sentient and animal. And for kidnapping Jean-Luc Picard and his friend, now that you'll be very sorry for and if there's anything left when I'm finished with you, you'll serve your time not in New Zealand, but on Rura Pentha. The Klingons know how to treat people like you. You'll die there you bitch and I'm going to make sure you're reminded of what you’ve done every damned day why you're there!"

 

 

The slip drive propelled Liam's vessel at a phenomenal rate, but it had nothing on Meredith's craft. What had taken her a mere seven hours to reach took Liam three days. Meredith was asleep, a dildo inserted and oscillating gently as her hand masturbated her engorged clit. A small device was attached to her right temple, a tiny orange light blinking. The soft voice of the computer was very apologetic.

"Meredith, I am truly sorry to disturb you, but the target has entered the belt."

Her eyes snapped open just as yet another organism swept through her. She had been asleep many hours, the device inputting one erotic scenario (with Beverly of course) after another. The number of orgasms she experienced was countless, yet she woke clear headed and ready.

Rather than remove the little device, she simply deactivated it, thinking once her 'business' was concluded she would induce another long sleep cycle and reactive the the device. While her vessel took her home, Meredith would spend the time in erotic and orgasmic bliss, her mind filled, as always, with her beloved Beverly.

"We're ready?" She asked the computer.

"Yes." The computer paused and Meredith's eyes narrowed. "But I must warn you again. My primary concern is your safety, Meredith. I am not supposed to initiate anything...indeed I am not supposed to follow any instruction that puts my owner at risk. I am aware you can deactivate me and if that is what must occur, then so be it. But in all good...conscience...I must warn you against this course of action."

The mad woman stood and stretched, admiring the play of her muscles under her golden skin.

"You know..." She remarked matter-of-factly. "If it wasn't for the fact that I am the most unique and superior being in the universe, I could take great offence at what you just said. Disobedience? From a computer I built with components I stole from those unworthy to have them?" She stared into the middle distance, not really seeing anything. Then she snapped back.

"But I find I can't fault you for risking your own existence to protect me. All right. Considering the use of the KSI-1 is not-negotiable, under what circumstance would you say we could achieve optimum effect?"

"As it would seem the use of the experimental weapon is take place, then doing so from within the confines of an asteroid is perhaps not a good idea. Not that I am questioning your wisdom, Meredith, I am not, but such is the raw power of the weapon, open space would be advisable as the...venue. That way, should there be any...unforeseen...malfunctions, we would have the opportunity to make our escape."

"Hmm...you may have a point." Meredith went into the cockpit and stared at the mineral walls of the interior of the asteroid.

"What would happen if we left an obvious trace of our presence here?"

"I can only assume the target vessel's commander would assume we were still here."

Meredith's smile was grotesquely delighted. "Exactly!"

A confused computer said tentatively, "I do not understand, Meredith."

Rolling her eyes, Meredith said irritably, "We won't be here, but we'll be within range...and in open space!"

"Oh! I see! Yes, a brilliant plan, Meredith. Well done!"

Sneering at the ceiling, Meredith said quietly, "You can heap the praise on me once we're successful. For now, re-engage the phase shifter and take us out of the belt and into open space. Stay in the phased shifted state until I say otherwise."

"Yes, Meredith, but I must warn you of the drain that will put on our systems."

"It won't matter. The fuckers will be here soon...sniffing around with their clock-work equipment. Once they find the fucking HUGE signpost inside the asteroid...then we introduce them to a very unpleasant death."

She stretched again and began to feel the arousal once more.

"Let me know when the fun is about to start."

"Yes, Meredith."

 

 

 

Liam Dogovich was many things, but most of all he was no fool. If he was he'd have died years ago. The ability to rely on his intensive training and his inherent instincts had not only kept him alive, but got him through more sticky situations than he cared to recall.

His ship approached the asteroid cautiously, the incredibly small, as yet unnamed traces and sub space disturbances growing minutely stronger the closer they got.

Liam glared down at the damaged monitor screen and shook his head.

"No, I don't buy it. Why would you go into that mishmash of rock and detritus unless you knew we were on your tail?" He sat back and raised his right hand, scowling at encountering his missing little finger.

"All right...if it's a deliberate ploy...what are you up to?"

After sitting for ten long minutes, staring at the readings on his monitor, Liam entered a series of commands. The specially coded and separate section of the ship's computer went to work, aligning itself with the prototype sensor...Liam's 'sniffer'. The result made the man burn with sardonic satisfaction. 

"Thought as much. You chose the biggest asteroid...Gamma 2-1 and all of a sudden we're getting readings that're off the scale! Now that could mean one of two things. Either you're still there and something's gone wrong to make you haemorrhage particles...or you've deliberately dumped a load to do what? Bring us in? Why? What is in your scrambled brain?" Again he lifted his right hand and growled softly at being thwarted. 

"Computer!" He barked. “Come to a dead stop and hold this position."

 

The chime of acknowledgement went ignored. Liam sat back, placed his bare feet on the console and put his laced fingers behind his head, wincing slightly at the pain in his hand and a soreness in his right shoulder he'd been unaware of.

"Right! You want to play games...I'm up for it. We'll just sit here and wait you out. Sooner or later you're going to have to show your hand. If you're not in the asteroid, which I'm pretty sure you're not, then that must mean you're nearby, waiting. What for, I don't know, but one thing I share with Jean-Luc Picard is patience."

 

 

Just on two hours later a discreet light activated on Liam's console. His slitted eyes caught the subtle glow and he sat up, all torpor gone. His monitor remained dark and the voice was as it has been before, unidentifiable and the transmission deeply encrypted.

"We have your position. You have been stationary for some time. We take it the target is close?"

"I believe so. You've analysed the readings?"

"Yes. They are...confusing. Can you guess her strategy?"

The lean, tall man shrugged. "Not really, at least not specifically, but as you may have noticed, the strength of the particles within the asteroid is attenuating. That can only mean one thing. She's no longer there."

"Or," Said the dispassionate, mysterious voice. "She may have managed to stop the...'leak', in which case she would still be there."

"You say 'she'. You agree with me?"

"Yes. Our enquiries have disclosed the wanted individual, Meredith Bower, has taken immense care in eliminating any and all traces of her former self, not only her identity, but her appearance. And, you were quite correct, she has indeed visited the Fen."

"Shit!" Liam growled. "That makes my job that much harder. I take it she is the one responsible for the murders I mentioned."

"Yes."

"Then not only is she a walking, talking, fucked up computer, masquerading as a human, but one with untold wealth and no affiliations...no restrictions on where...or how...she acquires whatever she wants!"

"Through this communiqué I am sending you the only image we have been able to obtain since her...augmentation. Bear in mind the...alterations had not yet settled."

Liam waited a few moments then grimaced. "Dear God...what does she think she is? Do you think she was aiming for a particular species, because I've never seen any living thing like that."

"Our informant tells us she chose her appearance and I can tell you the changes are not only to her outward look. Her body has been altered inside as well. She now possesses immense strength and an almost physically asexual body assignment. Apparently she prefers her own gender and that was the cause of what happened on the Enterprise. It has been established she, as Lieutenant Meredith Bower, developed a fixation for the CMO, Doctor Beverly Crusher, who, coincidently, is in a committed relationship with the Enterprise Captain, Jean-Luc Picard which precipitated at least three murders on the ship and the attempted murder of Captain Picard."

"I thought as much." Liam said sourly. "Picard and Crusher are the hostages."

"That has been confirmed by the Marenan authorities."

"So...the Fen?"

"Vanished, as usual. It seems in all the years we have pursued the entity known as the Fen, it has eluded us."

Liam grunted his dissatisfaction. "Must be frustrating."

"Indeed, especially as we know we were only two hours away from making our move. We had the location and reliable intel that the Fen was in residence. However, when our operatives arrived, the building was completely bare...down to the molecular level."

Liam again lifted his right hand and bared his teeth at the futility of the action. He shoved his hand down, jamming it under his thigh and ignoring the spike of pain from the already aching injury.

"Do we know anything useful about the Fen? Is it an individual? A group?...a fucking AI computer?" Liam's voice clearly carried his anger. "You know, it seems to me, that with all our technology...all our 'contacts' the fact that we can't either capture or nullify an entity others seem to be able to not only locate, but utilise..."

The voice, though made indistinguishable, was obviously irritated. "Do you think we don't share your frustration? Through the years we have pursued the Fen one thing has become patently clear. It...whatever it is, has knowledge of things we do not."

Liam actually gaped. "Are you saying we have a mole?"

"How else can you explain our inability to apprehend this...Fen when those who require its services can do so with impunity? The only criteria seems to be the ability to pay...and pay exorbitantly."

"Then I suppose me asking if you've tried a well-latinum supplied plant..?"

By the lengthy silence, Liam gained his answer. The next thing he heard made him grin, but it was a cold, deadly expression.

"Once this current situation has been dealt with to our satisfaction, your next assignment will be the Fen. Find it and...nullify it as expediently as possible."

"It'll be my pleasure and I can only assume our scientists will be delighted with any...party bags I manage to...acquire...after the nullification?"

Again a lengthy silence said more than any words could. Liam took a deep breath and said quietly, "The schematics I recently procured. In them, I believe, was a prototype VTD...a very big one. What are the chances my target has managed to put one together?"

"Considering that would be nothing but pure speculation, I cannot say with any veracity that your suggestion has any merit. However, as we are quickly learning, it would seem nothing is out of Meredith Bower's reach. So...as an educated guess...yes, I would postulate she does indeed possess such a weapon."

Liam's eyes narrowed. "Has there been any evidence...anywhere...of a weapon of that power being tested? Used?"

"Not to our knowledge and believe me, if it had been activated, we would know."

"Then given she has it...it's unproven! She's just as likely to annihilate herself as us when she fires the damned thing!"

"Indeed. My advice is to stay out of range...provided you can locate her ship."

Liam's smile became wry. "Always good advice."

The light extinguished indicating the transmission had terminated.

Adopting his former pose, Liam stared balefully at the cluttered, crowded asteroid belt. If he was right, and he was sure he was, he was on one side and mad Meredith Bower was on the other. All he had to do was work out how to draw her out...and survive.

 

The woman in question has long ago passed anger. Now insanely enraged, she screeched at her computer, "What the fuck is he doing?"

The question was rhetorical, but the computer answered anyway. "Obviously the commander of the target ship is suspicious. He or she is waiting to see what is going to happen?"

"I know that you stupid cunt! What I want to know is how he knows! Yes, we know they have some kind of tracking system, I found that out months ago, but I specifically calibrated our propulsion..." She stopped in mid-sentence. "Oh...those fuckers! They must've come up with an new version! Fuck!" She lashed out with the side of her foot, smashing the front of the replicator.

"They know! They fucking know I'm not in the fucking asteroid! Jesus!"

She reached to the scabbard on her thigh and withdrew her faithful knife. With broad sweeps of her arm, the keen blade cut through anything softer then metal. It took fifteen violent minutes for the rage to subside enough for Meredith to begin to think again. But not necessarily clearly.

"Right! Bring the VTD online and blast a path through the asteroid field until I have a unimpeded shot at that fucking shit-pot of a ship!"

Wisely, the computer waited a few seconds before carefully wording it's reply.

"Although that is a stunning idea, and under normal circumstances would prove very effective, in the process of 'blasting a path' through the asteroid field, our target would be able to easily pinpoint our location, phase shifted or not."

Meredith froze as her deranged mind came to grips with this new information. Her expression showed she'd finally understood. "We'd be lit up like a fucking Christmas tree! Shit! That means we can't use the VDT...not unless we get close enough so that one shot will do the job."

"And we know the target ship can track us." The computer had spoken mildly, but the observation drew a sarcastic reply from Meredith.

 

"Oh really, Sherlock? Your purpose is to assist me not state the fucking obvious!"

"My apologies, Meredith."

An ungracious grunt was the only reply. Meredith sat amongst the chaotic mayhem of her craft and glared at the computer interface, muttering darkly, "I want to do this by myself! I don't want to have to connect!"

But it was inevitable. As enhanced, both physically and mentally as she was, the only access she had to new information was through the portal. That it was connected vicariously to the Fen she didn't know. Had she been aware of this she may have thought twice about her visit to the Fen in the first place. What Meredith had wished for, wanted so badly caused actual physical pain, was total control. Autonomy on a level that surpassed anything yet known. She knew without a shadow of doubt, once she achieved that, be in a position to be unanswerable to anyone but herself, then having Beverly would complete her view of Utopia. And...with Beverly raised to Meredith's level....the woman smiled, her expression grotesque. "Two Gods, free to rule as they wish. No one...nothing can stand in our way. Combined we will be omnipotent!"

But, brought back to the here-and-now, Meredith righted her ripped and twisted chair, sat and eased the thin tube into the portal. She had done this often enough to be familiar with the sensation of her mind expanding. What she didn't feel or recognise was the subtle presence that came with the expansion.

 

 

The dream Beverly was having had been pleasant. She couldn't quite remember where they were, but Jean-Luc had been gently caressing her thigh. It wasn't a sexual caress, but one of warm, knowing familiarity. She smiled in her dream, wanting to turn, to encourage him to move his hand and turn the caress into something more erotic, but there was an odd warmth which, over some time was growing uncomfortably cool. And then there was that smell. She knew that smell...had smelled it many times before. What was it and why was she smelling it now? 

It made no sense. Casting her disquiet aside, Beverly reached for his hand, intending to place it where she wanted it, while at the same time, she reached for his penis, knowing that particular overt caress would quickly change Jean-Luc's mood from gentle affection to outright desire. His scream brought Beverly awake with such a fright she released a jet of urine.

It took a few long seconds for Beverly's panicked mind sorted the dream from reality. It was then she realised what had happened. The warmth she'd felt was Jean-Luc's blood, the anal packing, soaked beyond its capacity to hold any more blood, was leaking. The blood, smeared up his thigh had rapidly cooled.

And his scream? Her dream caress of his penis had actually occurred and the poor wretch of a man had endured not only Beverly gripping his badly damaged penis, but in her sleep, her questing hand had pressed against his mutilated testicles.

Sitting up, Beverly wrapped her arms around the now sobbing man, saying over and over, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."

He calmed slowly as the pain reached its peak, then settled into a remorseless throbbing. He swallowed to try and wet his dry mouth and whispered, "Why, Beverly?"

He did try to keep any recrimination out of his question, but for the life of him he couldn't understand why Beverly had done to him what she had.

With tears streaming down her face, she said brokenly, "I was dreaming. At first it was...I don't remember it all...but you were caressing me and I wanted more...I wanted you to touch me in a sexual way and to encourage you I..."

"It's all right,” He whispered. "I think I understand."

Beverly looked down at the smears of blood on Jean-Luc's thighs and floor and wiped her nose with her hand as more tears threatened.   
"I'm going to have to repack your anus, my love. And this time I'm going to have to use thicker fabric."

The ramifications of that weren't lost on the suffering man. "Oh, God..." He whispered. If having thin, easily managed fabric pushed up his anus was almost unbearably painful...how could he cope with having thicker, more robust material shoved up there? Beverly knew exactly what he was thinking, she was thinking the same thing herself. The only thing she had that was suitable was the towels. She had no doubt packing the torn membranes with the towelling material would definitely stop the bleeding...but...

Before she could even begin to prepare, Jean-Luc whispered quietly, "Why didn't you use the stronger material in the first place?

Reddening, Beverly admitted, "I was trying to cause as little pain as possible. But of course I outsmarted myself and now you have to suffer a worse fate because of my lack of courage."

Somehow he managed a smile of absolution. "You, Beverly Crusher, are the bravest person I know. It wasn't cowardice Beverly, it was compassion and for that, I'm eternally grateful."

Although said in a soft whisper, it was as if he'd spoken directly to her with his gorgeous mellifluous voice.

"Oh, my beloved Jean-Luc...how I love you."

"As I love thee. Now do what you must, Beverly. The only way we can defeat Meredith Bower is to survive." 

Even the sound of the ripping fabric, once she'd managed to get the remarkably robust material to tear, made Beverly feel ill with the thought of what was to come. But Jean-Luc was right and she'd be damned if she allowed Meredith Bower the satisfaction of knowing she had deprived Beverly of the love of her life...or their baby.

Fortunately, at some stage during the packing, Jean-Luc lost consciousness. Beverly, who had been making regular checks on the wretched, suffering man, sighed in relief as the terrible, heart rending screaming suddenly stopped. She looked up, checked his pulse and respiration, then worked as fast as she could safely get away with. She knew this haste would cause bruising, adding to his pain, but she was able to do a more thorough job with him senseless. 

Satisfied and feeling more confident, Beverly rearranged the towels, making sure her lover was warm and comfortable before leaving him. She went into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. Apart from some sex toys, there was nothing. The chest of draws opposite had no clothing either, just more dildos and sexual paraphernalia. A thorough search of the room revealed a hidden, closet like space. At the base she found a metre- square box, made of a material she's never encountered before. It was very strong, it shone, in fact it glistened in a silvery-blue colour, yet it was soft, like fabric, but when Beverly tried to open it, it remained stubbornly shut. She could find no latch, no hinges, no seams...nothing. It was simply a mysterious box, but the fact it was in an obscure hidden place and not accessible only served to increase Beverly's curiosity. 

She rose stiffly and checked on Jean-Luc before making a thorough search for anything she felt might cut the material the box was made of. All she came up with was a butter knife. All other cutlery and utensils had been very securely locked away. She glared at the table, neatly set with a plastic-like spoon, a plate, cup and saucer and the blunt butter knife she know gripped in her hand.

"Damn you, you bitch!" Beverly muttered darkly. Still, a blunt, synthetic butter knife was better than nothing. Returning to the box, she decided to drag it out and was very surprised to find it was very heavy.

She was half a frustrating hour into her fruitless quest when she head Jean-Luc softly groaning. Immediately abandoning the box, she went to him, finding he'd changed his position slightly and had managed to reach both his hands between his legs to cradle his ruptured testes.

Beverly couldn't contain her gasp of astonishment. "How the hell did you manage to do that?"

The man swallowed, trying to find his voice, but he'd screamed too much, his once velvety-smooth voice now a broken croaky whisper.

"Pain." He whispered hoarsely. "Too much as they were. Had to lift...support..."

Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, Beverly nodded, her face clearly showing her anguish. "Say no more, my love, I understand, in fact I should've done something about it while you were unconscious. I know the pain of damaged testicles can be relieved a little by support." She sighed and bowed her head. "I'm so sorry...again, Jean-Luc. After I'd finished the packing, I got preoccupied with trying to find some clothing and a way out."

"Any luck?" He whispered.

Beverly grunted her frustration. "No on all accounts. There's not a stitch of clothing, nothing I can use as a weapon...oh...except a fake, dull butter knife, and the entire house is looked up drum-tight! Even the damned replicators have been programmed to give only food and drinks...all in containers that disintegrate after about twenty minutes." Her voice had risen as her anger and frustration grew

Jean-Luc whispered, "A clear mind will solve more puzzles than a clouded one."

"Ha!" Beverly spat angrily. "I've discovered this really weird box in the bedroom." She went on to describe it and her useless attempts to open it. In the ensuing silence that followed, Jean-Luc said with a barely audible whisper, 

"Audio lock."

Trying to be patient and keeping in mind it was entirely possible her lover was not thinking clearly, considering what he'd been through and the pain he was in, Beverly said softly, "There is no lock, my love. The box has no external features whatsoever, not even any seams."

Somehow Jean-Luc found a grimace-like smile. "That's what makes audio locks so effective." He had to stop and take a few breaths. "Completely hidden inside and opened by a password. Perhaps even using voice-recognition as well."

With more impatience than she intended, Beverly said tersely, "So how does that help me?"

His strength draining rapidly, Jean-Luc whispered, "Think, Beverly! What's been the sole focus of Meredith Bower for a very long time?"

Beverly's eyebrows rose in surprised comprehension. "Me!"

All the man could do was nod. Tapping her index finger nail against her teeth, the doctor said worriedly, "Okay, the password might be obvious, but what about voice-recognition?"

Almost at the end of his losing battle with unconsciousness, Jean- Luc said, "You'll just have to take your chances. Meredith's insane...she may not have thought of it."

Beverly would've said more, but he was gone, once again passed out. As a doctor it worried her incessantly that he would lose consciousness so readily and frequently, but as his lover she was relieved he was finding a way to escape his agony.

She left him reluctantly and returned to the box. She sat beside it, eyeing it suspiciously. Feeling very foolish, she cleared her throat, not even considering trying to imitate Meredith 's voice. "All right!" She thought. "This should be pretty straightforward." 

In a clear voice, she said, "Beverly." 

Nothing happened. Closing her eyes, the doctor shook her head. Aloud she muttered, "Insane or not, Jean-Luc, she's employed VR."

But she had to admit he had a point. And giving up after only one try? No, that wasn't Beverly Crusher! So she tried again.

"Crusher."

Nothing.

Five minutes later, Beverly had gone through every permutation of her name, professional title and rank she could think of and was on the verge of giving up when she said, as an afterthought..."My precious Beverly."

There was an almost in audible click and the 'lid' of the box silently rose. Beverly craned forward suspiciously, ready for anything dangerous or unpleasant, but all she saw was a largish assortment of dark, reddish brown metal items. At first she had no idea what these things were. It wasn't until she picked up one of the the things that she closed her eyes, nausea making her want to vomit. It was a 'choke pear'. A medieval torture instrument used anally and vaginally. Its name came from its shape. Like the fruit, it had a classically pear form, the narrow end being the one inserted. Then, using a worm screw mechanism, the instrument, which was constructed in two halves, began to open up, thus dilating the orifice it was in. It had the capability of splitting the orifice of the unfortunate recipient of the torture so hideously, either the unspeakable agony or blood loss eventually killed them, but as the screw was turned slowly, it was a correspondingly slow and agonising death. 

Beverly didn't bother to look at any other of the box's contents, their use was clear. Even if Meredith was a legitimate collector of medieval torture instruments, Beverly had no doubt they would have a sexual use and that they were meant for Jean-Luc.

She went and checked on him before going through the house, absolutely gobsmacked to find nearly every locked system opened to the same three words. "My precious Beverly."

She was now well armed, though not with anything like a phaser or disruptor, but she had an assortment of sharp, sizeable knives carried in a backpack she'd found. The only thing she couldn't find was any clothing. Obviously hers and Jean-Luc's had been destroyed.

The communication system was the only thing she couldn't unlock, but that didn't matter. If they or even she could get out of the house, surely help could be summoned...somehow?

Kneeling beside her lover she closed her eyes and said softly, with tears forming, "Forgive me, my love." She then gently pinched his broken nose and twisted it sideways. It had the desired effect. His swollen eyes opened as widely as they could and he cried out in pain.

Stroking his forehead, Beverly said loudly, over his vocalisation of his agony, "Jean-Luc! I'm sorry, but I had to do that...I need you conscious!"

Her urgent words broke through his agony. Somehow he curbed his reactions and quietened. Wishing to be as quick as possible, Beverly said in a rush,

"If I can find a way out of this damned house...do you think you can walk? I know it's a lot to ask, but I can't carry you, my love and I really don't want to leave you. Not only am I worried about your medical condition, but I simply don't want to be away for you."

The blighted man thought for only a few seconds before making a slight shake of his head. "No, Beverly, I don't think I could walk, with our without your help...or even crawl. The pain is just too severe."

Although she expected this answer, she was compelled to ask. She smiled, letting him know it was all right.

"Okay then," She said with a confident smile. "I'll just have to work something out. Mind you," She muttered wryly, "I haven't worked out how to get out of this...bloody mausoleum yet!" She'd tried for humour but was surprised when Jean-Luc whispered brokenly,

"This house...all computer controlled?"

Frowning and trying to work out where the question was leading, Beverly said cautiously, "Yes. But as you know, I have access to everything except communications and the damned exit doors and windows."

"Ventilation?" 

Beverly shrugged. "I don't know. The temperature seems to be constant...warm without being too hot and the air itself seems clean. I haven't detected the taste of recycled air or any staleness."

"Any aroma at all? Even the slightest hint of a scent?" Jean-Luc croaked.

Closing her eyes, lifting her head and closing her eyes in concentration, Beverly let out her breath until her lungs were empty. She then drew in a new breath slowly, doing her best to analyse it. She was interrupted as Jean-Luc whispered, his speech beginning to slur.  
“Remember what I've taught you about the bouquet of wine. Separate the components of the air, and utilise your tongue."

Repeating the action of emptying her lungs before drawing in another long, slow breath, Beverly did as Jean-Luc had suggested and, just as she was reaching full ling capacity her eyes flew open. "The sea! I can smell salt water!"

"Don't be too sure it's a sea. Saline can be used to..."

Beverly finished for him. "...act as an air filter, I know...but, Jean-Luc this was more than just salt water. There was more...extremely subtle...but I think there was sand...grasses maybe...rotting seaweed..."

“Might be psychological projection." He slurred. Beverly frowned at him; the subject of what she did or didn't smell forgotten. 

"Jean-Luc...what is it? Why are you slurring?"

"Tongue going numb. Right side mild paralysis."

Alarm made Beverly immediately examine her lover, saying as she gently scanned him, "Just your tongue or all of your right side?" 

"Jus...tong."

"Right, that's probably your serious concussion showing itself. All the more reason to stay with you."

"No." He managed. "We mus be gone befo she..."

"Returns? I know!" Said a frustrated and angry Beverly. "But how the hell do I find a way out! I don't want to leave you, Jean-Luc! I don't think you realise just how badly you've been injured...and I'm not just referring to your genitals. You have broken bones...internal injuries which are bleeding...and those are the most recent! You were already in a terrible state when you arrived! You've got frost bite for Christ's sake!"

He wished with everything he had he could let go with one of his supporting hands to take hers...to impart his understanding of her frustration and gut-wrenching worry, but he simply couldn't do it. Instead he looked up at the woman he loved beyond reason and said, "You either find a way out...or we...all three of us...will die." Somehow he'd found a way to speak clearly but it cost him. He let his neck relax and his eyes close. It took Beverly a second or two to realise he was, once again, unconscious.

She wanted to scream in anger and helplessness...rail at the fates, but overriding all was two things. Getting help for Jean-Luc and getting out. And one would serve the other. She sat on her haunches and looked down at the bruised, bleeding and battered man. "You just don't give up, do you. Well, neither will I! What was it you said? Ventilation? Why, Jean-Luc? If Meredith has had a hand in designing this home, she wouldn't be so foolish...or stupid as to leave such an obvious flaw in the security integrity." But then Beverly's eyes narrowed. "Yes, but we're not dealing with a same person, are we? She slipped up with the audio lock...could she have made. similar mistake with the ventilation system?"

She rose to her feet and winked, blowing the unconscious man a kiss. "Only one way to find out, my love. Wish me luck!"

 

 

Liam's eyes were so slitted he seemed to be asleep. But the sudden bright glow of the warning light on his console had him moving with the grace of an uncoiling snake.

"So...you're on the move? Finally!"

His rear view mirror broken, he looked over his shoulder, saying sharply, "Status?"

The female voice was rock-steady. "Three, ready and willing and mostly able, sir."

Liam sighed. "Three." He said with a touch of defeat. "Equipment?" He asked more hopefully.

There was the slightest hesitation before the female said "We still have the explosives, but the detonators no longer function. Of our personal weapons, two fully functioning, one we think we can repair and one unsalvageable. Our adaptive capabilities of our uniforms is no longer functioning and the oxygen replenishment system on all our suits have been somehow...nullified."

More to himself than out loud, Liam opined, "An after effect. That blast radius from whatever it was she used...designed no doubt to affect as many systems as possible. Have we scrubbed?"

The female knew immediately to what he was referring. "The air scrubbers have done their best, sir, but as you rightly pointed out, as yet we don't know all of the constituents of the matter used to make the explosive. Therefore..."

"We can't be certain we're clean." Liam finished.

"No, sir. And the longer we stay..."

Glancing down at the light, Liam's smiled coldly. "That seems to be about to change. Our 'target' appears to be on the move. Now, given we know she has access to weapons and the technology to go with them, I suggest we use the asteroid belt as a buffer. If she could get at us through it, she would've done so already. At least, that's my thinking. So we keep sniffing and watch."

"If I may, sir...what are we watching for?"

"A mistake. She's been very careful up 'til now, but the fact she's willing to show herself when she must know by now we can track her...it's my hope she's either panicking or she's pressed for time. It matters not, as long as it causes her to fuck up. And if she does?" He slammed his fist on the palm of his other hand. Ignoring the pain. "Then we have her. So, obviously if and when that time comes, I'm going to need something powerful enough to send her packing! I doubt we're going to be able to destroy her, but if we can slow her down...or make her footprint bigger...easier to follow...well, you get the idea."

"I'll get right on it, sir. And in the meantime?"

"We play hidey."

The woman frowned. "Hidey, sir?"

"You might know it as hide and go seek." Liam smiled, his icy blue eyes scanning the asteroid belt. "We go in there, sneaking about, lurking here and there, all the while doing our best to frustrate her and hopefully drawing her into the mistake we need her to make. So, you go back to all you have to do and I'll play my game of hidey."

The woman grinned and although Liam returned her enthusiastic response, inside he winced. "Why did you have to be so damned young?" He thought sourly. "Too many have already died on this mission. Too many young lives lost." He sighed again and grimaced, thinking sardonically, "You're getting old, Dogovich, entertaining thoughts like that."

He remained engrossed as he manually piloted his diminutive craft into the belt, plotting a random course that would take him deep within the belt, but still able to track the target. His eyes switched continuously between his course and the information coming in from the 'sniffer'. For over two hours little of any consequence happened until he suddenly sat up and stared intently at the sniffer information. "Oh, yeah...come on in...the water's fine!"

Turning his head, but keeping his eyes glued to the screen, he said mildly, "You might want to go to alert status. The target is coming into the belt."

He heard the gentle rustle of movement aft of the cockpit as the three members that constituted his team made ready. Mere moments later, a female appeared at his shoulder. A quick sideways glance showed him half of her helmet was missing. 

"Report." He said soberly. He didn't know her name or rank, it was how the teams operated. They knew who to obey, and that was all that counted. The command structure within the teams, indeed within the organisation they belonged to was a complete mystery to Liam and he was in no hurry to dispel those mysteries. As long as everything he was involved with worked, and he was in charge he, he was happy. After all, it wasn't often he worked with anyone. He habitually worked alone. That was when he was most effective...and deadly.

"We are at alert status, sir. We can deploy instantly at your command."

"And the weapons, the explosives?"

"We have done all we can, sir, and I feel...I hope...you will be satisfied with the results of our work in those regards."

Liam allowed a ghost of a smile and did something he thought he never would. He broke with protocol. "What's your name?"

The one light hazel eye he could see widened, then narrowed. "I'm sorry, sir, respectfully, I have to decline to answer."

Having long ago mastered any outward emotional responses, Liam didn't show the blush of embarrassment, but he felt it inside. Nevertheless, he gave a curt nod, giving nothing away. "Of course. My apologies."

The female returned to the cockpit leaving a very angry Liam ready and willing to take out his mounting anger on the woman he knew was on the target ship. "See what you just made me do? I'll just add that to the list, you freak. Once I've...extracted every gram of information from you...I might just leave you as a vegetable instead of doing away with you 'humanely'."

He smiled with feral fury at that. Normally always in control and not easily provoked, this level of ferocious, murderous anger was evidence of just how hated the woman he knew to be Meredith Bower was. In dealing with political matters..even 'dirty' politics, it was more about brinkmanship, one-upness and ego. But not Meredith Bower. She was obviously insane, but her cavalier attitude towards slaughter, using a VDT...no, this woman had managed to raise Liam's usually latent fury. That she had to die was moot. It was the manner of her death that interested the enigmatic agent. Either that or his idea to leave her in vegetative state. But that could prove ultimately futile. If she possessed the wealth and contacts she seemed to have, she just might have the wherewithal to be restored. No. Better to get what he wanted then vaporise her. His smile turned to a predatory grin. "No coming back from that!" His grin faded as he watched the target make its cautious approach.

 

Meredith scowled, her other-worldly eyes glittering with overt cruelty. "Oh, but you're going to be so surprised, Liam Dogovich! When I have you here, on my ship, you will learn there are levels of pain unknown to you, levels you have no idea can be endured while still conscious. And then, when you're absolutely sure you simply cannot take any more..." Her scowl morphed into grotesque grin. "That's when I'll introduce you to my 'special' toys. You'll die soon after, which is most unfortunate, as I do so enjoy my fun...but everything in your little pea-sized brain will be mine." She sighed and her right hand slipped between her legs to stroke her enlarged clit. "Oh, I can't wait. Just the thought of your screams..." She sighed through her orgasm, it barely disturbed her thoughts. 

"Now, this stupid little ploy of yours? I know what you've been doing...trying hide behind certain asteroids...ha!" She crowed. "I didn't even need to connect to work that out! It's so patently obvious. So, having made my analysis, I predict, correctly of course, you'll be..." She stabbed her finger at the screen. "Here!" Her triumphant exclamation caused her computer to say tentatively, "Meredith, forgive me, but perhaps you might consider reassessing your strategy? My analysis suggests a very different..."

Rising with feline grace, Meredith moved the two metres to the computer main core. It was like nothing the Federation had, but that didn't concern Meredith in the slightest. All she was interested in was the ability to be able to disable certain functions of the computer. She had intended to just disable the voice interface, but on consideration, also disabled the combat analysis and strategy components. She wanted the victory to be hers alone.

Manoeuvring between the sometimes tightly packed asteroids was difficult even though neither ship was anything near large. Meredith had identified an asteroid rich in the masking minerals she was certain her quarry was using to disguise itself. On her stealthy, zigzag approach, she squinted, peering intently at the schematics and analyses that scrolled endlessly with the diagrams and predictions...all calculated on her assessments. 

On seeing no evidence of Liam's ship, she frowned for the first time, the rare and unwanted feeling of doubt surfacing. She quashed it immediately. "No! You're there! I can almost smell you!" Her frown vanished and she snapped her fingers. "Of course! You're simply moving constantly, keeping just out of 'sight' behind the asteroid! Well, Liam, my little pet, that won't do."

With one long stride she was in the cockpit, arming the prototype VDT and setting it's target. "If I can't see you, I'll simply remove what you're using to hide behind."

She took a few moments, deciding whether or not to have her image recorded sitting, long, sculptured legs up, her feet resting and crossed at the ankle on the console and her long finger hovering over the 'fire' button, or standing in a dramatic pose, staring into the void, presumably at her victim, again with her finger poised and ready to initiate the firing sequence. 

She decided on dramatic. She took up an almost Valkyrian stance, shook her head as if shaking her non-existent hair back and surreptitiously took a digitised image of herself just as she depressed the firing button. 

The ship trembled as the VDT was brought on line. It took precisely five seconds before the massive discharge of energy took place. The sinuously twisting rope of hideously powerful energy raced away from the ship and struck its target faithfully, destroying the asteroid so utterly little but minute, atomic particles remained. Meredith crowed with delight, masturbating furiously. Had she not been so distracted...or complacent she would have noticed two things. One was the very rapid and equally dangerous build up of Alpha particles throughout her ship and the other, had she looked, would be the rapid approach of her quarry...from directly aft. 

The first she knew of Liam's presence was the blast that hammered into the exhaust manifolds of her ship. Forgetting she'd disabled the vocal interface with the computer, she whirled around, striding back to her 'situation' screen, screeching, "Where did that come from and why aren't the shields up? Why didn't you warn me?"

In the quiet ship, Meredith's enhanced hearing began to hear a rumbling. Very subtle at first, she tilted her head, frowning deeply. Again distracted, she said in confusion, "What the fuck is that?" 

Finally realising her position, she reactivated all the disabled functions of the computer, but before she could utter one syllable the computer blared several alerts.

"Warning! Lethal build up of Alpha particles is in danger of interacting with the Corpus drive! Annihilation in..."

"Shut up about that! Where are my shields?"

“The corpus drive is directly connected to the shields. They cannot function with the corpus drive about to be catastrophically compromised."

"FUCK!" Shrieked Meredith. Pounding her huge, iron-hard fists against the console smashed the screen and badly damaged the console. Lifting her head, the demented woman seethed, "What happened? Who shot at us?"

"Sensors are non-functional. Ejection of corpus drive essential! Initiate immediately!"

Meredith had never contemplated death, especially since her 'rebirth'. Facing her imminent demise, an addled Meredith said absently, "I must connect."

Fortunately the computer had been constructed with in-built fail-safes. At all times Meredith's life was paramount and the computer would do anything necessary, including ignoring orders, direct or indirect to achieve that end.

The corpus drive was ejected and the computer began the arduous and dangerous task of purging the ship of the built-up Alpha particles.

Meredith had connected but her dull eyes showed nothing was happening. At least outwardly. Inside Meredith's mind, the Fen was removing all traces of itself. The vast repository of knowledge would remain, but Meredith would never again be able to connect for new information or problem solving. And once the cable was removed, the portal would become inoperative.

 

Another blast rocked the ship as it made a sluggish turn, attempting to bring the only functioning weapons to bear on the attacker. But it is far too elusive. Ducking in and out of the asteroids, it continued to take pot shots, trying to bring the ship to a halt for boarding. Only the phenomenal skill of Meredith's computer prevented that from occurring, but it could not stop the seemingly insignificant package that the attacking ship launched. It hits the hull of Meredith's ship with a barley heard, dull thud. At first nothing happened, then there is a devastating explosion. A gaping hole was rent in the side of the ship, taking out crucial systems. The instant activation of the force field to maintain hull integrity was only achieved by the computer sacrificing part of its function, in essence, powering the force field at the expense of its own continued existence. Knowing the battle was lost, it used the little it had left to engage the latent excess corpus energy to power the emergency engines. As the ship moved off to clear the belt, the computer struggled to stay online until they were in open space and on course for 'home'. At that time the computer ceased to function.

 

Liam swore softly, the stump of his little finger leaving a trace of blood that had seeped through the bandage to stain his thin, lower lip. At his side was the female, just as frustrated. 

Her expletive ridden invective both shocked and amused Liam. "Fuck those Alpha particles. Shit, if not for them we'd be on the stinking scow with her commander in restraints!"

"True," agreed Liam said mildly. "But it was those same APs that crippled the ship. We might not have been able to board it, but the damage caused to its engines..."

He was interrupted . "About those engines? The computer's initial analysis is in the realms of fantasy. Apparently some time ago, some nut job came up with this outrageous idea of powering the engines of space faring vehicles with the amplified 'energy' of cadavers! Can you believe that? He called it the Corpus drive! Corpus! As in body!" 

Liam's ice blue eyes glittered dangerously. "That's no fantasy, far from it! I only wish it was."

The woman's mouth gaped. "Are you telling me it's real?"

"Yep." Liam said with laconic fatalism, at complete odds with what he felt inside. "It works by gathering a certain number of bodies...the bigger the better...so Klingons, Naussicans...all the big species are perfect. Then, once you have enough, and that depends on the size of your craft, the bodies are...processed in a very particular way and the harvested 'energy' is converted into a electromagnetic fuel. The engines that run on this new fuel are avant-guard as well, but oddly extremely efficient. An old saying would be they were 'economical' with their available fuel. They are capable of phenomenal speed too and, as we know, leave very little by way of a footprint."

Aghast, the female said..."But that's grotesque! Murdering people to process their bodies for fuel?"

Liam sighed. "Rest assured, the 'inventor' is no longer...inventing, but we were never sure we got him in time, that is before he sold his technology. Obviously we failed, 'cause that ship is living proof his invention got out. Oh...and by the way, word has it he somehow nicked his 'idea' from the Hirogen."

After a lengthy silence in which Liam piloted the craft and set off in pursuit of the now glaring footprint, the female mulled over what she'd been told. Her question was inevitable, in fact Liam had been waiting for it.

"So if I've got this right, if you're using one of these corpus drives, you'd have to calculate how many bodies would have to be processed. But surely the 'fuel tanks'? on the ship would have a finite size. So what do you do if you miscalculate or for whatever reason, deplete your fuel leaving you dead in the water...? Excuse the pun."

Having little to do but oversee the progress of their chase, something not actually necessary, Liam gave the young woman a long look. The half of her face he could see paled significantly. 

"No..." She whispered. 

"Yep." Liam said with disgust. "The ships have redundant features to get them moving...that's what's happening now, but under normal circumstances the commander would go...hunting for more fuel...and he/she wouldn't be picky either. Any’ body’ would do. The processing can take place in a limited fashion on board."

"And is that what she's doing now? On the hunt for fresh bodies?"

The tall, lean man shook his head and glowered at the stump of his little finger. "Nope. She's making a bee line for home."

The one eye he could see hardened. "Then that's where we'll take her!"

"Oh yeah, but just keep in mind the hostages. If they're still alive they'll be our first priority. We have unlimited access to all areas of the 'exclusive' planet where the woman, once known as Meredith Bower has her home. We're also making very good headway of stripping her of her wealth. It was illegally gained, involving murder and god knows what else, is making her hosts very nervous as it seems she spread quite a bit of her wealth around, greasing wheels. No doubt there are a lot of very nervous government officials at the moment."

The young woman glanced over her shoulder and gave her pair a long look. Keeping her eyes on them, she said to Liam quietly, "I'm going to tell them. If they're going to put their lives on the line to rescue hostages from that...woman...then they should know killing her will be doing a lot of people a huge favour."

Liam reached out and caught her sleeve. "The hostages first, then by all means..kill her, but not before I...interview her."

His raised eyebrow said much more than words could. The young woman gave a curt nod accompanied with a quiet, "Yes, sir."

 

Not knowing how much time she had, Beverly began what she knew would probably be a fruitless search. There was no way Meredith, even deranged, mad Meredith would be so stupid as to make two fundamental mistakes. Not using voice recognition was so lax...Beverly just couldn't see how the woman could have a home constructed such as it had and miss such glaring errors.  
Still, she trusted Jean-Luc's judgement, even in his current condition, his brilliant mind was on the job, trying to find the necessary answers. 

With her head up tilted, Beverly wandered from room to room. She could see where the inset was that carried the air ducting, but she could find no outlets. Idly rubbing the back of her stiff neck, she was about to give up when she noticed something odd in the kitchen. First of all, why have a kitchen in the first place. Meredith never cooked, she replicated everything and the replicator was in the dining room...where it should be. The more she looked, the weirder things became. She'd not noticed before, being to engrossed on arming herself and trying to find a way out, but now, as she looked it was as if she was looking back in time. This kitchen belonged in a museum! It was like something straight out of the early 21st century. There were...Beverly snapped her fingers repeatedly, trying to recall the right word...then two terms came to her. 

"Appliances and white goods!" She wandered over to the refrigerator and tugged on the groove, presumably where one placed one's fingers and was surprised when the large door opened easily. She swung it back and forth, noting the apparatus on the outside. A quick experimental prod had her hand drenched in freezing cold water. "Well, I'll be damned!" Utterly enthralled in what she was seeing she almost...almost made her lose track of why she was there. 

It was the strange apparatus over the cooking appliance that puzzled her. She went to it and studied it, eventually removing what turned out to be a light, a set of filters and a fan. With the parts strewn about on the floor, Beverly managed to squeeze on top of the appliance and insinuate herself up and into what she now understood to be some kind of flue. It was only the dull sheen of new metal that gave her the glimpse of a junction with a larger duct. 

With ever-increasing excitement, Beverly wriggled back down to the floor and went back to Jean-Luc. He was still unconscious, but his breathing was unobstructed and regular as was his pulse. Not as strong as Beverly would've liked, but under the circumstances, acceptable. She placed a tender kiss on his brow, frowning at the higher than she expected heat of his skin and went to pick up the tricorder. But time was her enemy. Finding out why his temperature was rising wouldn't help if Meredith returned before Beverly could get out. So with terrible misgivings, she left the tricorder where it was and kissed her lover again, saying quietly, "Either I'll come back with help, or I'll find a way to get you out." She began to rise, then paused , and said quietly, "I love you, Jean-Luc."

 

The slight bulge of her pregnancy didn't make it easy for her to hoist herself up through the flue and then wriggle into the duct. It was surprisingly large and square, but still a very snug fit. She had given it a lot of thought, deciding on which direction to take. She had seen nothing of what lay outside the house, but she was absolutely sure they were either on or very close to the coast. Just because she hadn't heard any air reticular system operating, it didn't mean there was none. Fresh air was being drawn in and the circulated air constantly replenished. That must meant there had to be an inlet somewhere, big enough, she hoped, for her to exit the house through it.

 

Time had become an abstract concept to Beverly. She was covered in sweat, she'd voided her bladder and with a sinking feeling, knew she would soon have to empty her bowel. Being naked and in a very confined, square duct gave little opportunity to carry out such a basic human function, but she was so tired and thirsty, even the thought of going through the process of expulsion of solid waste was almost too much to contemplate. And she knew the longer she could hold off the expulsion, the more moisture, minuscule though it was, her body could extract from the waste. 

The length of time that had passed had been caused by the labyrinth of ducting that existed. At each junction, Beverly had a decision to make. Left, right or straight ahead? As the hours rolled on, it soon became obvious she was going around in circles. Many times she'd stopped to see of she could feel the movement of air through the ducts , and she could, but it was the same in all the ducts. There seemed to be no 'flow', no single direction and the ever-present and tantalising yet subtle scent of sea air only served to torment her.

Exhausted and with pain growing in her lower gut, Beverly was on the point of giving up when she had an idea. "God!" She exclaimed angrily. "Why didn't I think of it before?"

When the pain welled again, she didn't fight it, in fact she gave in to it and relaxed, allowing her body to finally expel the solid waste. Her medical experience had long ago inured her to the more unpleasant aspects of human digestive processes. Without hesitation she reached down and gathered up the thankfully solid bowel motions and, selecting a piece, began to move forward, using the waste to leave a brown stain on the side of the duct. 

She didn't have much, she would have to be very careful to use what she had judiciously, but now she had a way to know if she'd been in a duct before. Instead of making one continuous line, to conserve her 'recourses' she made only a line approximately ten centimetres long. 

Her strategy paid off within twenty minutes. Now moving with more confidence, Beverly soon found the she was indeed feeling a stronger, fresher movement of air, but her goal was reached so suddenly she momentarily froze. Facing her was a one metre wide round frame, it's area almost completely taken up by a multi bladed fan. The blades were thin and each had a precise   
twist. As she watched, mouth agape, the rotating blades suddenly picked up speed and the passage of air they drew in increased exponentially.

"A wind driven turbine!" Beverly said to herself. Spurred into action, she dropped the nut-sized piece of excremental she had, all she had left and entered the larger area directly behind the spinning blades. "Right." She said with far more confidence than she felt. "All I have to do is break out...somehow."

She began by running her fingers around the rim of the frame, looking for something she could either break or remove to disable the fan. But the metal frame seemed to have been made in one seamless piece. "Hmph..." Grunted the doctor. "Probably replicated." That left the fan. She sat and watched it for a while, trying see if there was a pattern of some sort, but although the fan would slow, it was just as likely to pick up speed remarkably quickly. 

At the vagaries of the wind, which wasn't constant, Beverly's stomach sank as she realised she was going to have to take her chances and use her feet to attempt to bludgeon the fan out of its housing. The thoughts of what might happen to her feet and legs she simply put out of her mind. It was just another obstacle to overcome to save the father of her child. The man she loved.

Shuffling on her backside she moved close enough so that, with her knees bent she could deliver the most powerful double foot kick. She took a single deep breath and hoped that the wind would cooperate. Her first attempt did nothing but jar her feet and shins and slice a few superficial cuts to the soles of her feet. Not one to vacillate, she immediately kicked again, this time several of the blades bent. Beverly was elated until she realised she would have to aim for the same spot if she hoped to have the quickest success. So this time she had to wait, wait for the wind to die and then time the rotation of the fan. Her reflexes were good and she struck the right spot again, but the cost was beginning to mount up. The cuts on the soles of her feet were no longer superficial. As the twisted, thin blades bent, the sharp metal cut deeper and deeper. And she had to take out enough blades to fit her body through. 

It took an hour and a half and so much blood splattered around the alcove, the battered and now useless fan and Beverly herself, the area looked like a charnel house.

Uncaring of the pain in her feet and lower legs, Beverly stuck her head through the hole and closed her eyes as the ocean breeze buffeted her face and lifted some of her sweat-soaked hair.

She got through the hole in minutes and dropped only a short one and a half metres to the sand below. Now outside she could hear the sea, but she felt that was not where she might find help. Standing upright was a lesson in self control. The pain, especially in her sliced feet was almost unbearable, but the blood that tricked and oozed from the wounds was quickly soaked up by the very fine sand, creating a shoe like effect on her soles. It was very little by way of protection, but it was better than nothing.

 

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Jean-Luc had heard the muffled booming of Beverly's kicks. Although he could only guess at what he was hearing, he was astute enough to make and educated assumption. He smiled to himself thinking, "That's it, Beverly my love, get out, be free and get help, I know if anyone can do it, it's you."

His eyes closed as consciousness fled, yet the tender smile remained on his blathered and bruised face.

 

Meredith scowled at the readout and bared her huge teeth. "More speed! I need more speed!"

In the ensuing silence, Meredith cast a malevolent glare at the defunct computer. "A lot of good you turned out to be! I'll be paying the fucker who sold you to me, you useless piece of junk. She's going to find out what happens to those who try to put one over Meredith Bower!" She smiled, her eerie eyes glittering. The more violent her thoughts, the wider her smile grew until she was grinning and giggling manically. The repeated masturbation was inevitable.

Somewhat calmed, the demented woman shook her head to try and bring her mind on line, but without the ability to connect the portal, she was cast adrift. With no computer and no help from the Fen, she was faced with the unpalatable prospect of dealing with her problems on her own. Not impossible by any means, but not as easy as it should be.

"All right. I have Dogovich on my tail and closing. It'll be sheer luck if I beat him home." That one word made her scowl. "Home!" She said the word with a mixture of delight and disgust. Why soon became clear. "You're waiting for me, aren't you my love. Waiting for my touch...waiting for me to remove Picard's parasite from within your beautiful body. How grotesque!" She growled. "To soil your body with his filth! Well he will pay for that! And, Beverly my sweet one, I will give you the pleasure of emasculating him...slowly....with something blunt so you have to saw and hack..."

Another masturbatory interlude passed before the woman sat back in her cockpit chair and glared at the blip that represented Liam's ship. It was growing larger every time she looked at it. "You fucking cunt, Dogovich! What business is it of yours anyway? You deal with governments and clandestine groups, not lone wolves like me." Her frown cleared and the grin returned. With a shrug she said happily, "Still, it's not my fault that your snooping is going to kill you. I mean I have a right to protect that which is mine...and my privacy."

Her grin faded as she eased the front of the panel away from its housing. "I need more speed and I don't care what systems I disable to get it. As long as I reach home first, all will be well."

The officer standing at Liam's shoulder inclined her head, the one eye he could see squinting. "Sir...what the hell is she doing? She's taking almost everything off line, she's barely got life support!"

Liam sat back and happily sucked on his stump. "That, my friend it what desperation looks like. In order to keep her lead she's directing every gram of power into the engines."

"But her engines sustained..."

"Oh, I know and so does she, but we're only about two hours from our destination. She doesn't care about her ship, as long as she reaches her home first."

"Why?"

"Because everything’s there. The hostages, her wealth, all the connections for the 'work' she's had done...perhaps even a clue that'll lead us to the Fen. If she makes it home first, I can guarantee everything except one of the hostages will...disappear."

The young woman frowned. "Sir, I don't understand. Why, after taking all the risks, going to all the trouble...why would she destroy it all?"

The smile on Liam's face was as cold as ice. "I didn't say she 'd destroy anything. I said it would all disappear. I have no doubt she has a fall-back strategy, she'd be a damned fool if she didn't. No, the only thing she might destroy is one of the hostages. But if I know her like I think I do, she's going to want time. Our Meredith enjoys inflicting pain. The more trouble you've caused, the worse it is for you."

Shaking her helmeted head, the female squad leader showed her disgust. "We know who the hostages are. So who cops it? Captain Picard or Doctor Crusher?"

Leaning back and placing his lean legs on the console so his bare feet could rest with crossed ankles, Liam smiled."Here's a little clue for you to work it out. Meredith Bower is gay,"

The woman's voice was flat as she said, "And can I assume Doctor Crusher isn't?"

"Yep,"

"Then the hostage in the most imminent danger is Captain Picard."

Snapping his fingers and pointing at the woman's armoured chest, Liam said sarcastically, 

"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock! Now, can you tell me how do we find him...or Crusher, when we'll be illegal interlopers in this system? My little game of I scratch your back, you scratch mine was only an introduction. Admittedly the threat of exposure and an investigation opened a lot of closed doors, but Meredith Bower has achieved citizenship. They'll protect her and they'll use that as an excuse to...eliminate us. Two birds, two birds with one stone."

The female thought for a moment, then said with quite intensity, "Then we should even the odds, sir."

Turning his seat, Liam gave the woman a speculative look. He remained silent. The female heard the unasked question loud and clear.

"Our sensors are working?" 

Liam nodded once, curtly. 

"And we can discriminate between the indigenous inhabitants and any humans?" 

Shifting in his seat slightly, Liam's eyes began to gleam. He nodded.

"Okay, there're only four of us left, all told, but I wouldn't mind betting humans are kinda thin on the ground. If we can find them, we can set a trap and once it's sprung..."

"All right." Agreed Liam. "that takes care of the after. What do we do with the before? How do we stop her 'disappearing’ all that lovely evidence we want so badly?"

The female smiled, it made her visible eye crinkle. "Drones."

Liam's pale blond eyebrows rose. "You have some drones?"

"Yes, sir. Fully programmable and...with cloaking capabilities."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Liam gently. "You are a naughty officer, aren't you? All right, we locate them and let lose the drones. I take it they can deliver pharmaceuticals?"

"They can deliver anything you want, sir."

"Good. Now here's what we're going to do."

 

It was an irony. Time was at once an enemy and a saviour. Beverly knew that Meredith would return and sooner rather than later, but every second she remained free, increased her chances of finding help. And yet...she sighed. She couldn't go too far from the house. Not only did she fear for her lover's health, but should Meredith return, Beverly wanted to be on hand to protect Jean-Luc. 

The pain in her lacerated feet had become a constant throbbing, burning sensation, one which Beverly came to ignore. Such was her determination to find help, her own injuries became irrelevant. She had quickly left the coastal dunes, it turned out they existed as a narrow band and soon found herself in the semi-coastal, low growing scrub. It wasn't until she'd covered a few hundred metres that the two natural features gelled in her mind. Such a narrow, sparsely covered strip of dunes with low, poor quality scrub land could only mean two things. The sandy soil had little by way of nutrients, common in coastal areas, or the area was frequently blasted by high winds. "Or a combination of both." She thought morosely. "Great. Just my luck. I'm as thirsty as hell and I'm unlikely to find any potable water and should the weather turn, I'll probably be blown off my feet!"

She looked up, making a visor with her hand and squinting in the brassy light. It was hot and getting hotter. But she saw a rise, not much...she wouldn't even call it a hill, but at least once she'd crested it, she hoped for a view that would show another dwelling. With renewed hope, she ordered her tired and damaged body onwards.

 

Jean-Luc Picard had always been a stoic man. And pragmatic. And he had long believed that the fundamental makeup of people could not change once those traits and attitudes were embedded in the person's psyche. However...though it made his injured lips split open and begin to bleed, he smiled. "I was wrong...so very wrong! My changes began when my relationship with Beverly became a reality and I changed again with the news of her pregnancy." He wanted to sigh, but knew the pain that would cause due to his broken ribs wasn't worth it. "And they've been changes for the better, I'm sure. I'll have to ask Beverly, but I know I'm looking at things from a new perspective, that my set-in-stone attitudes turned out to be not so immutable. Who would've thought?" He smiled again, ignoring both the trickling blood and the sharp stinging pain. "And I know I'll change again once the baby's born. My God...a baby. Me, a father. Incredible." 

He lay on his side, curled in an almost foetal position, but he found that internal pain prevented him from curling completely. His smile faded as a new pattern of thought intruded. "What if I make a poor father? It's not as if I had the best role model in my own father. If I'm destined to follow his example..." He grimaced and would've shaken his head vehemently if he'd been able. "No! No matter what kind of example my father set, I would never do that to any child of mine. Besides, Beverly would never allow it! She'd make quite certain of that."   
He lay quietly for while, letting his body gather what strength it could. But still his mind wouldn't rest. "I know my father loved me...he just didn't know how to show it, yet he had no trouble showing his love for maman or Robert. So...a conflict in character? But I was just a child!"

He thought a little more and actually gasped, then grimaced at the sharp pain that caused. "I was too much like him! He saw in me himself...and didn't like what he saw. Oh God, what if I do the same thing to..." He gritted his teeth and groaned piteously as his broken jaw complained loudly. "No! The changes...even if I see myself in our child...I am a better man now. There will be no need to ostracise a child who has no hope of understanding why his father, who he knew loves him, treats him so deplorably."

With that comforting thought, Jean-Luc allowed his mind to drift, going where it wanted. As he relaxed he never felt the seamless slide into unconsciousness.  
He didn't even stir when, mere moments later, he voided his bladder. The urine contaminated by blood.

 

 

Holding the drone gently between forefinger and thumb, Liam nodded with respect and appreciation. "An insect. What a bloody brilliant idea! Do we know if this species in indigenous?"

The young woman, who had finally removed her helmet exposing a nasty gash from her temple to the top of her ear. Liam had treated it and she was just waiting for the pain to subside before putingt her helmet back on. Liam knew she would refuse and analgesic, lest it took the edge off her reflexes. That could prove fatal, if not for her, then perhaps one of her team...or Liam himself.

"Unfortunately no, sir. We had to choose a generic fly. The fly exists on so many planets and has basically the same or similar structure and habits...it would be highly unlikely a few flys would be noticed, especially as they won't be in a group."

"All right, that covers aerial surveillance, what about ground and indoor?" 

Turning, the woman selected a few more small insect-drones. "An ant, a wood slater and a few others.. Again, we have no idea whether these creatures exist on the planet, but the likelihood is that something similar to them should. One of the constants of M class planets, inhabited or not, is always a proliferation of insect life and in remarkably varied species."

"Well, I can see that research and development has been busy. So you said they can deliver pharmaceuticals?"

"Yes, sir. Because of their small size, the 'payload'...as it were, is tiny, relative to the size of the 'carrier', but to overcome this, the pharmaceuticals have been greatly altered to increase their potency. Where it might take, say, ten milligrams of a common sedative such as melorazine to achieve rapid unconsciousness, the same effect can be achieved with point zero one micrograms. That's an enormous percentage decrease that will do the same job."

"And," mused Liam, "The ‘subject’ would assume they'd simply been bitten by a 'fly' or whatever.” 

Grinning evilly, the woman nodded her head. "Until they hit the floor as consciousness is lost, yes, sir."

Liam's eyes held an amused glint. "You know, sometimes I think you enjoy your job a little too much."

The woman chuckled and shrugged. "It does have it's advantages, sir, but personally I prefer a more...traditional approach. This miniature drone stuff is okay, but there's little more satisfying than bringing down a really bad guy with a clean shot, whether it be a tranquilliser or a phaser rifle set to maximum."

Liam's cold smile said more than any words could. The woman failed to stifle the shudder that swept through her body like an icy wave. She was grateful when Liam dismissed her.

 

The wind was getting stronger, lifting the rat tails that constituted Beverly's once gloriously lustrous red hair. She pulled the mass back irritably, trying to fix it in place somehow to keep it off her face. She failed. Her hair was oily and completely untamed, so with angry disgust, she held it back with one hand while she shielded her eyes with the other. 

The rise turned out to be a massive disappointment. All it showed from its barely elevated height was kilometre after kilometre of the same coastal, low growing, struggling scrub. She snorted and corrected herself. "Not coastal. The grasses on the lee of the dunes maybe, but this goes too far inland to be considered coastal vegetation."

Disheartened, Beverly knew continuing was pointless. Not only would it take her further away from Jean-Luc, she could plainly see there were no other dwellings. In fact there was nothing of note, not even a tree to break the monotony of the scraggly scrub.

She turned and began to trudge back to Meredith's house, thinking sourly, "Figures. Of course she'd want isolation! Anti-social, megalomaniacal, totally self-absorbed...no way would she tolerate a 'neighbour." Still deep in thought, Beverly lifted her head and stared at the sea, some three quarters of a kilometre distant . "Which begs the question...how was the house constructed? There's absolutely no sign of land vehicles having traversed the scrub and to bring in all that material, appliances, furnishings...not to mention the man power..." Her dull eyes cleared as the answer came to her. "The sea! They came by sea!" 

Ignoring the increased pain, she quickened her pace, eager to see if her assumption was correct. "If it all came by sea there must be some kind of landing....a pier maybe...and if we're lucky, a small boat."

The scrub finally thinned out then disappeared completely as the sand and remarkably soft grasses took over. Having reached the base of the tall, fairly steep dune, she wished the grasses grew on the incline. Climbing up the lee side of the dunes was very difficult, the sand slipping at the slightest touch. It seemed to Beverly that each metre gained was at the cost of three metres lost. She had welcomed this phenomena when she was going down the dune and had she not been so focused on finding help, she would've noticed. 

Eventually she gave up trying to walk upright and fell gratefully to her hands and knees. At first taking the weight off her feet was such a relief she almost sobbed, but just as quickly as the relief had come the insidious agony of her feet filling with blood. It made her lower her head until her forehead rested on the sand and she groaned low in her throat. 

She did her best to regulate her breathing, riding out the worst of the pain until it settled into a dreadful throbbing, each foot in perfect sync.

"I can do this!" She hissed through gritted teeth. Splaying her hands to their full extent, she also opened her legs to spread her total weight over as much area as possible. If this strategy didn't work, her only remaining option would be to lie flat on her stomach and somehow either wriggle or use her arms and legs to pull herself up the diabolical sand dune.

As it turned out, her plan worked. She still slipped backwards with the localised avalanches of sand, but her progress was greater than her loss of metreage.

Already desperately tired, Beverly tried not to think about what her raging thirst and depleted nutrients were doing to the baby. As a doctor she knew babies in utero often survived when their mothers succumbed, the parent's body giving precious life-sustaining fats and fluids to the baby at the cost of their life. Of course that meant the baby had to be removed quickly, either by spontaneous natural birth, or intervention of some other kind, such as a Caesarean delivery. It mattered not. Once the mother was dead, the baby's clock was ticking and the time was severely limited.

Beverly was still worrying about the baby and all the possible scenarios that might arise as she finally reached the crest of the dune. Had it not been for the sand and spume laden blast of cold wind that struck her full force on her face, she wouldn't have realised she'd made it.  
Squinting and blinking rapidly to clear her eyes of tears and fine sand, she cast her eyes up and down the beach as far as she could see. Her spirits plummeted when no jetty or pier, no landing of any sort showed itself. The beach was just as deserted as the hinterland. Careful to keep her balance and not disturb the sand too much, Beverly slowly turned sideways to orient herself in relation to Meredith's house. Having got her bearings, she turned her head for one last look. It was tiny, a mere flash, but it caught her attention.

"A fish?" She wondered, not daring to hope. She stared at the same spot so long her eyes began to blur. With a sigh she muttered "Yes, Beverly, a damned fish." She was just about to return to the house when she saw the tiny flash again, in precisely the same place.

"That's no damned fish! I don't know what it is, but I bet it's not a naturally occurring phenomena."

She had a decision to make. Go down to the beach and swim out...it seemed to be about one hundred and fifty metres off shore, although she was well aware of the distortion of distance of water as seen at an angle from above, and she'd have to negotiate the surf, which thankfully was mild, not too boisterous or cut her exploration and return to her lover. In the end her decision was made for her. Over the thump and distinctive roar of the beach came the familiar whine of a craft utilising thrusters to land. But Beverly's keen and experienced ears easily picked up the sounds of engines under tremendous strain. 

Normally when a craft executed a landing, the engines were left to idle as the thrusters were used to bring the craft down to a hopefully soft landing. This was SOP. If anything went wrong, the engines could always take over and quickly lift the craft clear of any danger. But although she could clearly hear thrusters at work, the engines of the vessel were struggling, making the most hideous noise, as if a foreign body was lose inside them. "Impossible!" Gaped Beverly as she hurried down the dune. She sensed the vessel was on its last legs and she needed to find shelter. And most pressing of all, the appearance of the ship meant only one thing.

Meredith had returned.

 

 

"Beverly!" Meredith called in a no-nonsense tone. "Beverly get in here! There's going to be an explosion and I want you with..."

That's as far as she got. The house shook violently before the sound of the blast reached inside. It seemed to create a momentary vacuum, causing Meredith to drop to her hands and knees. She opened her mouth wide as she'd been trained to try to protect her delicate hyper enhanced hearing, but it turned out her super hearing system was too delicate. The intricate inner structures shattered, making Meredith fall to her side and curl up, her hands clasped to each of her ears. Blood trickled between her fingers.

 

On the cold tiled floor of the bathroom, the violent shaking, followed immediately by the massive explosion roused the desperately ill man. Jean-Luc's mind was not functioning as it should. He didn't know where he was or how he came to be there. All he registered with any clarity was the unbearable agony emanating from his the testicles. That was something he understood, but he had absolutely no idea how he'd sustained such a terrible injury. He barely remembered his own name,

 

Beverly's prediction of being blown off her feet had turned out to be eerily correct, but it wasn't a natural phenomenon like the wind off the sea, but rather a manufactured blast, caused when the craft had abruptly and violently exploded. There had been no warning..."Well, " muttered Beverly , manipulating her jaw to try and gain some hearing. "It did sound...sick, but it didn't even land. It must've been at least five metres off the roof pad when it went."

She rose slowly, surprised at how tangled her limbs were. She had a vague memory of pin-wheeling through the air before the wind was knocked from her lungs. Rising unsteadily and wincing, her face a grimace as her feet took her weight, she also felt new injuries, nothing serious, mainly soft tissue damage, but as she warily rotated her right shoulder she let out a yelp of pain. "Dammit! That's a rotator-cuff tear. Getting Jean-Luc out of the house had just become almost impossible.” She looked at the debris that had rained down even finding its way outside the huge roof of the palatial house. 

"God..." Beverly grimaced again, her left hand gently massaging her right shoulder. "I hope that mad bitch was in that when it went up."

Giving the broken, drunkenly hanging front door with a leery glare, Beverly took a few tentative steps towards the entrance. "We'll," she sighed. "At least we won't have to use that damned fan again!"

 

Liam's face gave absolutely no sign of emotion as he read the information pouring in from his ship's sensors and scanners. Only his eyes showed both the intense interest and the equally intense hope that his adversary had been on board when the explosion his ship had detected occurred. 

Such was the power of the blast, there was a 'dead' space for several minutes after the explosion similar to what was once know as "white noise'...or 'dead air'. This unavoidable by-product of being too near a blast of that magnitude irritated Liam. He hated being vulnerable, and being effectively blind and deaf in space was exactly what they were. Easy pickings for anyone not affected by the blast.

Precisely ten seconds later, the very quiet voice of the computer emerged from the tiny receiver in Liam's left ear. " Do you wish a change to our present course and speed?"

"No." Liam said softly. "Maintain set course and speed. As soon as we have all our systems back online, I want a complete analysis of the explosion. ETA?"

"We will be entering the Proxus system in seventeen minutes."

"Activate the molecular hull transformation and raise shields to maximum and prepare the cloak."

A feminine voice behind him made Liam scowl. "Expecting trouble, sir?"

Without turning his head, Liam delivered his rebuke. "For future reference, I do not like to be approached from behind, especially when I am obviously busy and any preparations I initiate are of no concern of yours. Is that clear?"

He detected the tiniest tremor in her voice as she stiffened to attention and said quietly, but as crisply as she could, "Perfectly clear, sir. My apologies. It won't happen again."

As she was speaking, Liam's mind had already dismissed the incident. As far as he was concerned it was no longer of any relevance. His casual question both confused and wrong footed the young woman.

"We know the general topography of the area where we're fairly sure the house is...and I'd bet my left testicle that explosion came from the house...or very close to it. Now that could mean she's got another ship and has left, destroying everything remotely after she'd gone...or?"

"Ah..." The woman cleared her throat, thinking frantically. Mood shifts like Liam's was not something she'd been trained to deal with. He swivelled his chair and smiled. "It's all right...I don't actually bite." He then frowned and scratched his short gingery-blond hair. "Well I suppose that's not entirely true..."

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, the woman wished to retreat aft and away from the unpredictable man. She thought furiously and almost let out a whoop of relief when the answer came to her. "Her engines, sir. We knew she was pushing way too hard, and dumping raw power from other vital systems was always going make the organic processor unstable."

Grinning, Liam snapped his fingers and pointed at the woman. "Exactly! Well done." He sat back and tried to stretch his long thin legs. "Given that the atmosphere around the explosion's point of origin and for many kilometres in every direction and to a height of several thousand metres, and assuming this...pollution...will be a chemical soup, the kind nightmares are made of, will the drones still work?"

Somewhat taken aback by the question, the young woman hesitated, then shrugged off her uncertainty. "Yes, sir. Their outer chitinous-like 'shell' is made of an incredibly durable yet flexible material. In my estimation, the drones will function perfectly for as long as you require them to."

Nodding his head, Liam said distractedly, "Good...that's good...yeah."

Swallowing to wet her suddenly dry mouth, the woman said respectfully, "Sir, aren't we sure she either died in the explosion, or has escaped?"

"Hmm?" Liam looked up and for a second or two, stared right through the unnerved woman. Then he abruptly snapped back. "You must forgive me, I am plotting, trying to cover all exigencies."

The woman's eyebrows rose. "Oh, so sending the drones down is just a precaution?"

"Yes. Now without sounding like a shitty old man, could you go aft please? I think better on my own."

Offering a slight smile, a relieved woman turned and left, knowing Liam never heard her quietly spoken, "Of course, sir."

 

 

As one would expect, Meredith had designed her house and had had the construction done in such a way to afford incredible strength. But it wasn't all down to design and build quality. She had done her research and though it had cost an obscene amount of latium, she had found a building material that was almost impervious to anything. It was true entry could be gained their weak points such as the re-enforced windows and the exhaust fan but as for the windows, she had ordered triple strength clear aluminium. It would take some time to break through. As for the exhaust fans, she sighed. That was always going to prove bothersome. With no way to effectively house them and still leave them to do their job properly, she had no choice but to leave them unprotected. However she did have passive protection. 

 

Her property was vast, encompassing an entire isthmus that extended out in a long, wide, slightly curved landmass surrounded by the sea except at the point where the isthmus joined the land and to complete her need for privacy and the paranoid obsession with her own protection, she'd paid to have a deep channel dug right through the neck of the isthmus, effectively separating it from the land. 

 

Right throughout her property, including the waters surrounding it had sensors which would pick up anything larger than the biggest native species of bird. Anything bigger would have to be a biped and that she did not want. Her house too was under constant surveillance with tiny pin-hole cameras spread right throughout the house, several in each room, hallway and outer entrances. All the recording equipment had faithfully picked up all of Beverly's efforts to find a way out and no doubt striving to find a way to take her lover with her. This was proven by the fact she'd returned.

But the explosion had changed everything. Inside the house some random objects had been shaken off their display stands, the base plinths askew. Meredith, closer to the epicentre of the blast was been more badly affected by the concussive blast, it having taken place directly above where she stood, albeit at a height of a modest few metres. 

Jean-Luc, on the other hand had the good fortune to be in the bathroom whose locked cabinets contained thick, insulating towels and the floor, with its heating elements, helped to dissipate the shock waves as they bludgeoned the house. He didn't escape unscathed though. Blood seeped from his deaf ears as the resulting tinnitus made him confused and nauseous.

Meredith suffered similarly. She rose unsteadily to her feet, stoically ignoring the pain in her head. She understood why she was so profoundly deaf and knew that given the proper and adequate care, her hearing would be restored. What she wasn't prepared for was the sudden onset of severe vertigo. She staggered sideways, her hands held out in an effort to find the wall to try and control her violently spinning world, but before she made contact, she vomited. And kept vomiting until she could no longer stand. But even on all fours the uncontrolled upheaval of her stomach continued.

 

 

Beverly's survival, almost unscathed was mere fortunate happenstance. Experience had told her the strange craft was not going to last long. Not only was it making the most terrible sounds from it's engines, which should've been idling, not screeching in doomed protest, but the odd-looking exhaust manifolds, if that's what they were, began to glow red hot. 

With no time to waste, she turned and had begun to run as best she could on her sliced feet. She'd only gone five or six metres when her world changed perspective. Caught in the blast radius, and tumbling through the air, she still had the presence of mind to wonder if she was going to be able to avoid the inevitable debris.

And now, sore and super cautious, she eased her aching body past the askew front door and then stood absolutely still. Listening was pointless, her ears were ringing so loudly she wanted to yell "Shut up!" But having no hearing only meant she had to rely on her other senses. 

She felt certain that Meredith hadn't been on the ship, considering the almost absent evidence of any structural damage to the house, and the amount of time the ship had hovered before it's destruction, giving Meredith ample time to transport down, it stood to reason the insane woman was lurking somewhere in the house.

Hoping that wasn't the case and that she had indeed died on the destroyed ship, Beverly still took no unnecessary chances. As she made her way on her bare feet, leaving bloody footprints, she paused at each open door, flattening herself against the wall then peeking inside until she was sure it was empty, then stealthily moving on.

If Meredith had survived and was in the house, Beverly assumed she'd make her way to Jean-Luc. She had unfinished business with him and the outcome was going to be incredibly painful before it turned fatal. Beverly knew where Jean-Luc was...or had been, she corrected herself. She might not be able to move him far, but with her vastly superior strength, it would be child's play for Meredith. But Beverly needed a plan, or at least a goal. Sneaking around the interior was doing nothing but increase her anxiety, especially as she had no hearing. That was when her penny dropped. If she had been rendered deaf by the blast, and she'd been outside, any person caught inside, where the sound and shock waves were concentrated by not being able to travel but reverberate and bounce off every surface, they would be deaf too, and more profoundly. 

Meredith's hyper hearing caused a momentary hesitation in Beverly, but her training as a doctor told her that to achieve the level of hearing Meredith had required incredibly delicate and tiny parts, the entire system certainly not robust enough to have survived the blast intact. So where she and Jean-Luc would, with the appropriate medical assistance, regain their hearing with no lingering after-effects, Meredith, on the other hand may well be left permanently and profoundly deaf.

 

Jean-Luc smiled, once again ignoring the pain, as his mind came online once more, of his split and bleeding lips. "I know what that was,” He thought with savage satisfaction. "All my years in space tell me that explosion, while not exactly standard for any conventional matter-antimatter engine, was still the feeling of a space-faring ship being destroyed and by the intensity and sensation of the explosion, I'd say it was very close and utterly and completely destroyed."

He had woken only moments before the blast, the first thing he noticed was the chilliness of the room and the aching cold from the tiled floor. "Lovely," He thought sarcastically. "It's not enough to beat a man so brutally he has visited death's door...actually knocked on the damned thing ...no, that wasn't enough, was it, Meredith, my dear." He wanted to sigh, but even that habit was denied him. His thoughts remained bitter.

"Oh no, on realising he hasn't succumbed...yet...you make it just that more distressing to bring in hypothermia into the mix, which you will no doubt control so he doesn't die." His dark, mossy green eyes only visible through the slits of swollen flesh that matched the rest of his face and most of his body. "But your little plan has backfired, Meredith." He thought with grim triumph. "We both know you don't want a short, relatively painless death while I'm asleep! If you're still alive, if you weren't on that ship, you'll be coming soon. And won't you be unpleasantly surprised to learn the cold has eased my pain considerably?" He frowned again, trying to unravel a particular out-of-character mystery. "You know so much, Meredith. How could you overlook the effects of cold on injuries? That's fundamental. Has something happened, Meredith? Did you simply forget? Because if you did, something is amiss...something has gone very wrong  
with you, and Beverly will have picked up on it." He was smiling still when he sensed a presence in the room. With some difficulty he looked towards the door and sure enough, there was the naked, statuesque, yet grossly hideous form of Meredith Bower. 

 

She sauntered the few steps to bring her to her helpless captive and kicked him hard, just under the solar plexus, driving all the air from his lungs and causing instant nausea. She withdrew the foot and, having gained Jean-Luc's undivided attention, she pointed to her still-bleeding ears and said too loudly, "I can't hear a fucking thing!" She jabbed her finger at the retching man, doing his best to not vomit on the floor, lest he'd be made to clean up the resulting mess. Enunciating clearly she said one more word. "You?"

Jean-Luc was unable to shake his head in negation, so he did his utmost to enunciate as clearly as Meredith had, an almost impossible task given the state of his lips and broken teeth. "No." He croaked.

Meredith scowled and said loudly, "Shit! I want to hear you scream in agony as I drag you outside and down to the beach!" Her scowl gave way to a malicious, sly grin, exposing her ugly, unnaturally large teeth.

"Still, a trip to the beach is always nice, yeah?" She shouted.

Jean-Luc did nothing. He'd not heard anything, but that didn't mean he wasn't aware she meant to do him harm and without Beverly, after Meredith had had her 'fun', she would most certainly kill him. Slowly.

As if reading her thoughts, she looked over her shoulder, a deep, worried frown, the very fact she was able to crease her smooth, perfect skin, was testament to just how distressed she was at her inability to locate Beverly.

"I've called and called, but she doesn't respond." As if quickly changing a theatrical mask, her expression turned from anxious and worried to angry and vengeful. "She's hiding! She's deliberately hiding! Well, we'll see won't we? Eh Picard?" She gave Jean-Luc an odd, unsettling look. He hadn't heard a word she'd said, but he knew she was tipping further over the edge of deeper insanity. He could feel it.

"Stupid arsehole. You think refusing to answer will make me relent? You're out of luck you fucker!"

Still unaware of what she was saying and the mercurial shifts in her expression gave him nothing on which to base any opinion of her mental state at that very moment. He soon found out. She provided a very clear demonstration in the form of two more savage kicks. One again aimed at his already traumatised solar plexus and diaphragm and as he was trying to regain some breath, the second kick was delivered. It was aimed at his groin. It was sheer luck he was still cupping his horribly damaged testicles. But still, the pain robbed him of consciousness. But not for long, with Meredith cruelly twisting his smashed nose, he cried out piteously.

"Come on, shit stick we're off to the beach." Without hearing a word of what she'd said, he had no way or time to even try to prepare. Meredith bent, grabbed his left ankle and began to drag him across the floor. No one heard his cries of agony.

 

 

Due to the high level of caution she had to take, and being unarmed, it had taken Beverly just over an hour to check the lower level of the curiously large split levelled home. It was as she ascending the largest stair case, which she knew led to the odd upper floor, it's rooms covered with pictures of her, many, like in the ship. Huge close-ups of her eyes, or lips, a series of her entire face, arranged in a jigsaw-like pattern that seemed to depict Beverly's face shattered. There were complete pictures, life studies and statuary, all devoted to the beautiful red headed doctor. But what unnerved Beverly the most was a large triptych on the wall to the right of the door that led to the master bedroom. 

Beverly had wondered why a paranoid, antisocial murderer like Meredith, could possibly want with four spare bedrooms, the beds always neatly made and fresh towels folded and placed on the end of the immaculate bed, as if awaiting expected visitors.

But now wasn't the time for idle speculation, although Beverly couldn't suppress the shudder of disgust at the triptych. She and Meredith were depicted in the first in Starfleet uniforms, at work in sickbay, but, although separated by several metres, the look of love and lust on the faces as they stared at each other, including a astonishingly accurate representation of yearning in their eyes was sickening, yet beautiful at the same time.

The second painting had them naked and walking towards the viewer in a meadow. They were holding hands and though their heads were slightly bowed, it was easy to see they were looking at each other, lost in their own world. 

But the hardest of all to look at was the third and final picture. They were lying tangled together on top of a bed, kissing passionately, while each had a hand buried in each other's sex. The look of rapture and the unmistakable signs of approaching orgasm was the final straw for Beverly. She was tempted to sneak back downstairs to get a knife...a butter knife would do, and destroy these disgusting parodies of Meredith's imagination.

It wasn't until Beverly had entered the master suite and was making her way to the bathroom that she suddenly realised that the Meredith in the paintings was the 'old' Meredith. The woman she was before her...change. Filing that away for later analysis, Beverly made it to the ensuite door. A quick glance at the floor made her heart momentarily freeze. There was blood, quite a lot of blood and, with mouth agape, Beverly slowly turned her head to see that it went right across the bedroom, skirting the bed and out the door, by then more of a smear on the carpet than the large amount at the ensuite door. Had she looked down and approached the ensuite from the other side of the bed, she would've seen it.

Now positive the house was empty but for her, Beverly walked boldly into the bathroom and did her best not to sob at the sight of the pool of blood which clearly showed the outline of a body in it's clotting surface. Taking several calming breaths, Beverly said out loud, "Okay, you're not in the house, Jean-Luc and seeing as there's no way you could've got out under your own steam, that can only mean one thing. Dear, sweet Meredith, who loves you so dearly, has taken you somewhere to torture and kill." She rubbed her brow in frustration. "But where would she go?"

She turned and looked speculatively at the blood trail. "Well that's a pretty logical place to start."

After the trail had petered out, it was a matter of looking carefully for the odd small smear or rarer, a droplet. Slowly, her head bowed and concentrating fiercely, a limping Beverly, leaving her own bloody trail, made her way through to the back of the house and into an area she was unfamiliar with. It was compounded when the faint evidence of her lover's passage came to an abrupt end at a closed door. It was made of some kind of metal and beside it, on the wall was a small but elaborate security device. On close inspection, Beverly noted an alphanumeric pad, a retina scanner, a fingerprint scanner and a DNA scanner. Uttering a vulgar curse, Beverly turned and leaned her back against the cold seemingly impenetrable door, thinking, "Oh, shit. I'll never get that open."

It was then that two things happened at once. The door creaked and shifted slightly, the security pad lit up, showing activation, then just as suddenly blew off the wall in a shower of sparks and hot pieces of its constituent material.

Beverly had moved away from the door with alacrity at its first movement and she held her hands near her face until the flying molten bits and pieces has ceased before she dared look, then cautiously approach. Her eyes stinging from the acrid smoke, she suppressed the urge to cough as she put both hands on the door and shoved it...hard. She had no way of knowing which way the door opened, but as the door lacked any handle or apparatus to suggest it opened towards in inside of the house, Beverly felt fairly confident she'd made the correct choice. This was vindicated only a few short seconds later. The door was stiff and reluctant to movement making Beverly realise it too had been damaged by the blast. "And the power supply to the house must be surging." Thought Beverly worriedly. "Well " said a now once again determined doctor. "If I end up outside, it won't matter a damn anyway. My first and only priority is to find Jean-Luc and get him away from that nut case of a woman, preferably before the bitch kills him!"

She was definitely not prepared to find, after traversing a dark, small vestibule, the outer door opened relatively easily and light flooded in. Had she been able to hear, she would have heard the sound of the crashing surf nearby.

 

"I've got two sir...wait! A third has just appeared out of nowhere!"   
The young woman's voice was perplexed and excited all at once. Liam sat back, his tongue playing with his damaged right little finger. He gave the female a long, but not unfriendly look.

"If I asked you to tell me your rank, you'd refuse, wouldn't you."

She coloured a little, but her voice was steady as she replied, "With respect, sir, yes, I would."

Liam sighed, uncrossed his feet and lowered his legs from the console in preparation to sitting properly. He spent a few moments inputting instructions to the computer via the console, then sat back and said, "Computer, do me a favour and show all images captured at the recent explosion we detected on the planet."

The female was a little taken aback when the computer's feminine voice said, "Of course, Liam." 

The laconic Australian grinned and inclined his head towards the console. “We're on a first name basis, the computer and me."

Although the woman was now wearing a new helmet which covered her entire head, Liam could sense her amusement, however he let it pass. Drawing his seat closer, he said as he watched the screen, which he'd enlarged with tap of a fingertip, "Computer begin playback" To the watching officer he said quietly, "They didn't come out of thin air, nor were they transported down. They came from inside the house"

"What house?" The confused female said. " Our scans showed no dwellings..."

"Hush." Liam said, but not unkindly. "Just watch and at 4.82, watch very closely, as it doesn't last long and the glare from the explosion almost occludes it."

At the specified time, the ship that seemed to be hovering in air, about seven metres above the house suddenly and inexplicably suffered a catastrophic explosion. At the apex of the blast, for only a second or two, a palatial home was visible. Then it was gone.

"Well I'll be damned! It's cloaked!"

"Not exactly." Liam corrected gently. "If you were there, you'd have no trouble seeing it. But our 'friend' has got hold of a 'sensor scatterer'. In essence the entire dwelling is enveloped in a bubble, for want of a better term, consisting of minuscule particles that act as reflectors...mirrors if you will. Now to the eye of anyone on the surface, their sight is unaffected, it was designed that way, but to any scanner, the reflective properties divert the scans to the ground around the object and assemble the images so that the scanner 'sees' just a patch of ordinary-looking ground."

"Jesus! But what about a ground assault?"

Liam shrugged his shoulders. "We're not yet au fait with every aspect of the SS but it seems obvious to me that blocking sensors originating in space would be useless in the event you were attacked on land. My bet is that it can either be adjusted, or it's able to morph into invisibility to anyone on the ground. But that’s just an educated guess."

"Well it's not much help now. The computer has the coordinates and we can see the targets...in fact they're standing out like dog's balls...sir."

Liam quietly laughed. "All right, I know you can't talk about yourself, but you must have some Aussie in you." 

The woman bent slightly and said softly, "My paternal grandfather, sir. I used to stay with him a lot."

"And you won't tell me where."

It was a rhetorical question and no answer was given. Liam nodded and said with quiet steel, "Get your team ready, ETA, ten minutes."

"Aye, sir."

 

The rough movement had made some of the more serious injuries Jean-Luc suffered begin to bleed once more, but once outside the sand helped clog the gashes and lacerations...to a point. As he continued to bleed the sodden sand would fall off in clumps of varying sizes. 

Where Beverly had encountered difficulties following his bloody 'trail' in the house, caused no doubt by his lowered body temperature, once outside she not only had the drag marks in the sand, but also the blood clumps to follow.

She crested a small dune on the lee side of the large dunes that acted as a buttress against the wind and sea. She was just about to make her way down to the small valley between the dunes when a human-like shadow from behind her startled her, causing her to spin around and adopt a defensive pose.

The male held up his hand and slipped the full-cover helmet off his head. He simply smiled, allowing the shocked doctor to regain her composure and when she did, she cried out, "Liam!" And ran to him. He engulfed her in a bear hug, surreptitiously casting a look at one of the small team who carefully but quickly scanned her feet and on up her body from behind. Had it not been for the helmet, Liam would've seen the raised eyebrow when the scanner picked up the pregnancy and her deafness. The team member tapped her helmet, indicating Beverly’s deafness, then placed a gloved hand over her lower belly. The messages were loud and clear.

Disengaging, Liam placed his gloved hands on Beverly's shoulders. Enunciating clearly, he said, "First things first." He then touched his ears. Beverly grinned and nodded enthusiastically. An instrument was placed in each ear for three minutes and when the treatment was over, Beverly had enough hearing to converse and she knew with time, it would improve until it was back to normal. "Well," Liam grinned. "It seems you and that reprobate mate of mine have been having a little adventure."

With a snort, Beverly nodded, then snapped her head around to see she was being given a series of hypos sprays. To her raised eyebrows, Liam said quietly, but enunciating clearly, "You have the beginnings of mild infections in your feet, as well as foreign bodies. And, Beverly, you need a decent meal and a lot of rest." He looked pointedly at her belly and she blushed. "Does he know?"

"Yes." Whispered Beverly. She then took two handfuls of Liam's camouflage suit. "You have to get him back, Liam! She's not only taken him to further torture him but she intends to kill him." Beverly looked over her shoulder at the widely spaced, but haphazard clumps of bloody sand and the drag marks before returning her attention back to Jean-Luc's long-time friend. "You do know about her, don't you?"

"Meredith Bower?" Liam's eyes glittered coldly. "Oh yes, we know all about Meredith Bower."

"Then you know she's insane!" Said a panicked Beverly. "She had surgical enhancements done, Liam, she's not the same..."

Liam gently squeezed Beverly's shoulders. "We know, Beverly, we know. The enhancements, the Fen..."

"The Fen?" Asked a suspicious Beverly. Then her face cleared. "The extraordinary knowledge? The astonishing IQ?"

"Yes ", Liam said, noticing Beverly was already hearing with more clarity. "But we can't stay here talking. We think she has a vessel hidden and she's..."

Beverly stood back and one hand came to her mouth. "The water!"

Narrowing his eyes, Liam said with quiet intensity, "What do you mean by the water, Beverly?"

"Come on! I'll show you!" Before Liam could stop her, Beverly turned and ran in her odd loping style, having adapted to the damage to her feet. Liam and his little party had no option but to follow. They could have easily stopped her but if she knew where the vessel was....

 

To anyone else, climbing up the near sheer, sliding and shifting sands of the large coastal dunes would be hard enough, but to do it while staying upright and dragging the dead weight of Jean-Luc Picard made her feat even more remarkable. 

She had one hand locked around his ankle, but in the other hand she had something she'd scooped off the bedroom dresser on her way out. It was a powerful remote which had incorporated into it a lethal, razor-sharp blade and a tiny columnated weapon, similar to a personal phaser, but much smaller and incredibly, more powerful.

Having reached the crest of the dune, she unceremoniously dropped her captive's leg, lifted her head and spread her arms wide, while throwing her head back and yelling an incoherent sound of triumph. With that out of her system, she turned and looked down at the pitiful man lying helpless on the sand at her feet. He looked up at her through slitted, swollen and heavily bruised eyes.

"Yes!" Meredith crowed. "You take a good look, Picard. I have the power of life and death...I am a God, so far advanced from your plodding existence I doubt you will ever truly comprehend what I really am, but it doesn't matter, because I'm not going to show you mercy. You are going to die, you fucker. For what you did to my Beverly, fucking her beautiful body and implanting your parasite and then fucking with her mind!" Meredith kicked Jean-Luc, but he refused to react. If he was to die, he would do so without giving his killer the satisfaction of seeing or hearing his pain. He wasn't sure whether or not Meredith remembered he couldn't hear and it crossed his mind she may have regained her hearing, but as she looked out to sea, he said her name as loudly as he could, it gained absolutely no reaction.

"So," thought the captain. "She's still as deaf as I am." Before he could process that information and before he could use it somehow to his advantage, with no warning, Meredith stooped and gripped the back of Jean-Luc's neck, hoisting him to his feet, making no compensation for his injuries. As his ruptured testicle suddenly dangled, he cried out in agony, his bravado of only moments before lost in a grey mist of unspeakable pain.

Meredith saw him about to lose consciousness and shook him like a dog would a rabbit. "No you don't!" She screamed. "Before you die, you will bear witness to my genius!"

Jean-Luc never heard the words, but he got the gist of what she'd said. His unsteady gaze following her stiff arm, a small device held in her fingers, she grinned her grotesque smile as she seemed to depress a tiny button. 

Approximately one hundred and fifty metres off shore, rising to the surface, then disappearing below the ocean swell was a shiny object. Meredith's unnatural icy blue eyes gleamed as the object went under the water and didn't resurface. She waited patiently, holding Jean-Luc's neck so he could see through the tears of pain he was unable to control.

The first sign of something rising was a sudden roiling of bubbles and swirling, confused water. Emerging first was an oblong, silver tube. The rest of what turned out to be a vessel like nothing the captain had seen before, was floating on the surface. It was much larger than Jean-Luc had guessed it was. He'd speculated she had another craft when she seemed unperturbed when her other ship was destroyed. This, obviously, was it.

He thought she may have a shuttle, big enough for two, but this was a ship. Almost seventy metres long and twenty metres wide, the captain could only guess the ten metres or so he could see above the waterline was either matched or dwarfed by what lay under the surface.

He was suddenly propelled forward. Speaking in a conversational tone, Meredith seemed to have no idea her captive couldn't hear a word she said.

"Initially," she explained patiently, "I was going to have it fully remote controlled, so I could bring it closer in so my Beverly wouldn't have to walk then swim too far, but that would've necessitated a bigger remote module...and we don't want that, do we?" She gave a demented chuckle and bent slightly to have a good look at the terrible damage to Jean-Luc's genitals. 

"Oh, but that's going to hurt. This sea has a higher salt content than Earth's seas and it also contains an acid not yet categorised. I call it 'Meredith's brew.'"Again she giggled insanely. "About the only good your little dip is going to do for your...damage is to clean it a treat and support it...not that it matters. I don't give a flying fuck, I'm going to kill you no matter if you're squeaky clean or filthy."

By this time she was wading in knee deep water, her long strides carrying her into deeper water very quickly. Being shorter than Meredith, Jean-Luc was soon out of his depth and she'd been right about the pain. It was excruciating. Somehow he stopped himself from begging for mercy, she wouldn't hear him anyway, but he howled in agony, tears flowing copiously and unheeded down his battered and stubbled face.

Soon enough Meredith was doing a side-stroke, the pain of the vice-like grip on the back of his neck giving Jean-Luc a headache so bad he thought he'd vomit. With only a few metres to go to meet the vessel, Meredith stopped and tread water, admiring her creation. "It has an organic warp drive, you know. Much more efficient than..."

The water only centimetres to her right kicked up in a large fan of spray. Whipping her head around, she saw the party on the beach, but what enraged her was what the tall, ginger blond-haired man was doing to her beloved Beverly. Holding her the same way Meredith held Jean-Luc. 

The implication was clear. Let her captive go and she could have Beverly.

But Meredith wasn't about to give up quite so easily. She swam the last few metres to the ship and scaled the retractable ladder on the vessel's side. 

Climbing gracefully, as sleek as an otter, Meredith stood to her full height and lifted a now semi-conscious captain and changed her grip of his neck. Now grasping his neck with both hands, her implication was clear. Give me Beverly and stay where you are, or I break his neck.

The look of utter disbelief and astonishment when a phaser rifle blast hit her square in the stomach, driving her back several steps and making her reflexively drop her captive to cover the ugly burn with her hands made Beverly whoop with delight. 

Meredith didn't hear the whoop, but she did see Beverly punch the air. Moving with unbelievable speed, Meredith slipped down an open hatch, slamming it closed in emergency mode. The vessel then abruptly sank, leaving Jean-Luc to float helplessly in the swirling waters, in danger of being sucked down as well.

 

The instant Meredith had dropped Jean-Luc, Liam had shouted an order to his team to stay put, eased Beverly into the care of the team leader and was dolphining through the surf, diving under each wave and upon surfacing, adopted an easy, remarkably fast open water freestyle. He was with his mate in under seven minutes.

Cradling Jean-Luc's head in the crook of his elbow, he checked the captain's pulse and was greatly relieved to find one. By now fully unconscious, a blessing given the circumstances, Liam utilised the surf to gently bring his charge to shore, which was just as well, as Liam had not seen the full extent of his friend's injuries.

Beverly was standing knee deep, ignoring the intense pain in her feet and helped Liam to float the man into shallow water until he grounded. Then, with Liam doing his best to not react to the ghastly injuries he could see, summoned all of the team to lift and carry Jean-Luc with tender gentleness. 

Having laid him just as gently as possible on the soft sand, Liam contacted his ship.

"Computer, two to beam up on my signal."

He then turned to the team. "Right! Who's the designated medic?"

By the ominous silence and bowed heads, Liam knew that individual had been one of the unfortunates who had been killed. "I see." He said flatly and turned to Beverly. "Before she could protest he held up his hand. "I know you are torn, Beverly, trying to reconcile your desperate need to be with him and treat him against you deep desire to see...justice...carried out against Meredith Bower. But there're two things you have to know that might help you decide."

He took a deep breath and delivered the bad news. "My ship has no medical facility, Doctor. It was never designed for the kind of work that necessitated one. We either complete our mission and do our best to return, or we die. In that event, the onboard computer, on detecting no life signs when it should, self- destructs. So even if you went with him, there is only a minimal med kit and no pharmaceuticals. And the other thing is that we need what you have up here." He tapped his temple. "We have plenty of intel about Bower, but dry facts don't hold a candle to the kind of information contained in your mind and in your position as a doctor, it gives us a unique and very welcome perspective on our target we rarely ever have."

He looked deeply into Beverly's eyes and said softly, "I won't order you though. I do understand. Whatever you eventually decide, I will accept, but you have to make up your mind quickly. My ship can prevent Bower's ship from reaching the upper atmosphere, but not indefinitely."

Beverly nodded, too emotionally caught to trust her voice. Liam helped by turning his attention back to the team leader. "The drones. Any luck?"

He never saw the savage grin of satisfaction. "Well, sir, as incredible as it sounds we have not one, but two drones on her ship. The instant the hatch opened the drones I had brought into the general area of the deck immediately entered. But only two. A small fly and an even smaller wasp-like drone."

"And what sort of mischief can they get up to?" Liam said, his eyes showing his desire to create havoc.

"Oh, sir." The team leader said, her voice clearly carrying her enthusiasm. "It's more like what can't they do! You name it. From interfering with the circuitry of the ship, creating false sensor echoes to delivering a potent condensed sedative..." She held up a device that looked remarkably like a tricorder. She noticed her superior's dubious look and smiled inside her helmet. "We had to make it look innocuous, sir, and what's more common...and benign than a tricorder?"

With an appreciative grunt, he said, "Right! I want to play some games with the target's mind. We already know she's a sandwich short of a picnic, so I want her to begin to have doubts. Nothing to overt, start with petty annoyances, like a blown single unimportant console. Then slowly but surely begin to escalate. Go system by system until she'll have not a shadow of doubt she's either under attack, or someone has sabotaged her ship."

Liam turned and looked at the swells that now rolled over the place where the ship had surfaced. He squinted, lifting his hand and nibbling on the little finger, the bandage removed some time ago. When he turned back to his team, the female leader could see he'd come up with something truly fiendish.

"Can you tap into the central government communication network?"

"Yes, sir." Said a now excited, yet intrigued female.

"Bloody ripper! Right, I want a message, ordering her immediate deportation for a massive disturbance of the peace, one for which she had not notified the relative authoritative body, nor acquired a permit for whatever she did to create the explosion. Tell her there had been hundreds of angry residents clogging the usually smooth operation of the communication system. Remind her of the imperatives she'd agreed to in order to build on her land and stress, that by so blatantly violating one of the most important government by laws, she was no longer welcome and her departure is expected to take place immediately. Any belongings left will be forfeited. Harassment! I want her hounded!"

"Oh, wow, sir!" Said a very impressed female. " She'll blow a fuse!"

"More like a gasket and if I'm right, she'll fly completely off the handle...and that's where our little drone insect friends will deliver their sedative."

"Both of them, sir? With respect, that's a hell of a dose, certainly enough to kill a human."

"Oh, I agree, but you're missing two rather important points. One: she's no longer what you could classify as human, and that lack of human reactions makes her unique and two: if we don't render her utterly unconscious, she's going to be so pissed off..."

"I get the picture sir."

"Good. Now Doctor Crusher, Captain Picard and I are going up to my ship, I may have an ace up my sleeve. In the meantime, take your team and secrete yourselves within the dunes where she can't pick you up, 'cause you will have buggered up her scanners and transporters. Are we all on the same page?"

A soft chorus of, "Yes, sir." was heard." Liam walked over to Beverly, still assessing her lover's injuries. Speaking only loud enough to hear, after the team had left, he said, "My little ace is something a bit more...comprehensive than a med kit."

Beverly smiled her gratitude and sighed. "Jean-Luc had often told me you were a rouge."

Feigning innocence, Liam shook his head. "A rouge? Certainly not! A little unconventional perhaps, but that is a discussion for another day. Are you ready?"

Beverly took Jean-Luc's right hand in hers and simply nodded. Liam's voice seemed to come from a long way away.

"Computer, three to transport. Energise."

 

Beverly had never seen anything quite like it. Despite its interior battle damage, she could easily see this was a vessel well ahead in design and technology. But her very quick appraisal of the ship was made with quick glances during the time it took Liam to pick up his friend from the deck and lay him on Liam's own bed, although to describe the alcove with its half thickness mattress, (extra long to accommodate Liam's above average height.)

 

The doctor had no doubt it was comfortable, but Liam's bed was very utilitarian, the area around his bedroom was spare, devoid of anything deemed not necessary.

While Beverly knelt beside her lover, casting aside his grim-looking state, she had to reach deep inside her mind to look at Jean-Luc's ghastly injuries to see them, not without her compassion, but objectively, something she had taught herself to do whenever he was the was brought to her sickbay.

She smiled with the bitter sweet thought and, out of sheer habit, stroked his cool forehead. Just as Liam appeared at her shoulder, she said, " All up. 30 years."

Liam's nimble mind had found what that number related to. He sighed as he went about setting up a machine. The last two items were stools, Beverly rising slowly from her knees to perch gratefully on its surface. As he worked he explained, “Oddly enough, I like to collect things...sometimes not exactly legally. This...” He nodded towards the machine. “Is my latest...acquisition.”

 

Now sitting higher, she could look down at her patient. Without taking her eyes off the man, she said firmly to Liam, "Have you any medical training above the standard first aid taught at the Academy?"

"Indeed I have," Liam said and Beverly heard the trace of bitterness in his gravelly, deep voice. She risked a glance at the man to see his usually clear and focused eyes had clouded with dark and unpleasant memories. He saw Beverly's unassuming glance and explained. " Comes with the territory. Almost always I work alone, and sometimes," he gave a sardonic chuckle, "On some occasions I've been obliged to patch myself up. And of course, though rare, there're missions like this one." .He waved his hand to encompass the interior of the ship. Just as Beverly had inadvertently voiced an inner thoughts, Liam did the same thing.. "Kids...they're just kids and I've already lost too many."

Then he was back, all business. The last thing he said on the matter was, "It's the main reason I prefer to work alone."

 

An uncomfortable, but thankfully short silence ensued until Beverly too slipped seamlessly into doctor mode.

"Liam, I need some steri-pads...lots of them."

"You want to clean all his wounds."

"Uh huh. Taken individually, none of these injuries are life-threatening, but taken as a whole, he's in grave danger. I know he's bleeding internally too, but thankfully he's bleeding slowly and not in any dangerous quantity, but my main concern is infection. I don't know anything about this planet, specifically the pathogens. In short, I have no idea what kind of germs are floating about or, more importantly what they can do, let alone how to treat any infection caused by them. So yes, I want...no, need to get these injuries, in fact his entire body and our hands as clean as possible."

Liam grimaced. "They way you put seems to suggest even our attempts to clean and maintain some kind of sterility is just as likely to assist any nasties as easily as kill them."

"Yep." Said Beverly angrily. "But I can only do what my training and experience has taught me."

Liam gently grasped her shoulder. "It'll be enough, Beverly, I'm sure, but there's something I must insist on before we begin on Jean-Luc."

Irritation coloured Beverly's reply. "And just what would that be?"

"That you eat a decent meal and at least clean yourself, then begin treatment of your feet. You're just as much at risk as Johnny boy."

"Liam, we really don't have the time! Now just go and get the..."

"...meal. Good idea. Be back in a mo." Liam finished.

Though said lightly and in a friendly manner, Beverly was under no illusions. Liam was a long-time, very dear friend of her lover's and he had told Beverly a bit about him, certainly not enough to compromise the man, but enough for Beverly to know that to deny Liam even when his 'orders' are given so cheerfully was pointless. So rolling her eyes behind his back, the usually independent and rebellious Beverly bowed to Liam's proclamation with barely a whimper.

With growing impatience, the now well fed and hydrated Beverly fidgeted as Liam methodically and with appropriate care, first cleaned her feet before removing the splinters as best he could and then applying an antiseptic lotion that would permeate the flesh once the tissue sealer did its job. Any remaining splinters would have to be either removed by hand, or beamed out. It just depended on where in the soles of her feet they were.

Finally Beverly heard the words that allowed her to spring into action.

"There you go!" Said Liam, proud of his handiwork. 

"Yeah, and about time too!" Thought the doctor. Not having to be told, Liam had placed a large stack of steri-pads, contained in a sealed holder right next to Beverly's right side. As they began their onerous task, Jean-Luc started to regain consciousness.

 

Hidden amongst the twisted, convoluted, wind-sculptured gullies between the huge front dunes and their smaller rear counterparts, the female leader was seated with her helmet off, concentrating intently. Placed at strategic places on the barely tufted crests of the tall ocean-facing dunes, the others of her decimated team watched the sea, the visors of their helmets set to a magnification of x10. If anything disturbed the surface, there was no doubt they would see it...and if their leader did her job correctly, there would be no cloak. In other words...a sitting duck...or so they hoped.

 

"Now my little beasties, so far you've done marvellously well. I think it's time to up the ante. You, my tiny wasp, will make your way into the main computer core and you, my clever fly, will find a way to get inside the cockpit main console."

 

The female inputted the difficult algorithms that set the drones on their tasks when she was hit with a very powerful need to see the fruits of her labour. However, her rank within this special group had been hard won. So although she might indeed wish to peek with her colleagues, her desire to not put a foot wrong, to successfully obey her superior and eventually, with a strong history of initiative, competency and courage, she hoped to advance in rank. And so she sat cross-legged in the hot, airless gully, her eyes glued to the screen of her controller and when she switched from dry, emotionless mathematics to pictures, she saw an extremely satisfying scene. 

Meredith Bower was having some kind of tantrum, at least that's what it looked like. The interior she could see was a shambles. Occasionally Meredith would appear on the screen, her oddly transformed face suffused with blood, giving her skin a melange of tan and dark red. The result was, thought the female, probably the most frightening and ugly thing she had ever had the misfortune to see. She was so glad the sound had been muted.

 

On board the ship, Meredith was at her wit's end. What began as minor hiccups had now become a serious impediment. As each system was ordered to activate, the same thing came from the computer. "I cannot comply, Meredith. My apologies." Meredith didn’t hear the apologies which only served to further enrage her. And the continuous text messages from the planetary government so incensed her, she smashed the screen, leaving only one left for any sort of communication. She suddenly felt the nose of the ship dip sharply downward. A small cry of alarm from Meredith quickly grew to outright rage. 

The beast was out and it vented its madness on anything and everything it could lay its hands, feet or mouth on.

Before the vid feed was lost, the female saw that Meredith was arming some kind of weapon. "Time, I think, to call the boss. This is way out of my league."

 

 

Beverly watched with fascination as a series of pads were placed on Jean-Luc's injuries, all except those too painful or too serious. The red haired doctor had a feeling she'd seen something like this before...pads placed in specific places on the patient, leads leading to a machine...she suddenly snapped her fingers! "Yes!" She blurted triumphantly, causing Liam to send her a look of slight irritation and understandable amusement, something Beverly had only seen Liam do and she didn't know him all that well.

His craggy, lined and scarred face softened as he said, "Worked it out, have you?"

Slightly chagrined, a blushing Beverly nodded. "Yes. I knew I'd seen a machine like that. It was in a medical museum. But if my memory serves me well, I think it's purpose to measure something...the heart, I think, and the machine part was bigger. I mean the first of these machines were so big and cumbersome, but by the early 21st century, humankind had really done a good job in streamlining the device using the primitive computers they had available to them."

Nodding as he sited the last of the soft, malleable pads, Liam agreed. "Spot on, Beverly, well done. What you're thinking of was known as an ECG...an Electro Cardiograph. Its job was to give a fairly accurate readout of the beating of the patient's heart. A whole raft of problems, serious or merely annoying could be detected. And you're quite right about the shrinking of the 'machine' as well. Those medical engineers really did a bloody good job. But...that's not what this device is."

"No." Agreed Beverly. If you wanted to measure any of the body's functions, as an individual organ-by-organ scan or a total full-body scan, those pads you're using would be unnecessary."

Liam's attention was now focused on the tablet-size 'brain' of the instrument. Absently he said, 

"Obviously this is no ECG. It's a restoration accelerator." Before Beverly asked the inevitable questions. "You docs will get your hands on these in about 8 months. They're something our med techs have been busy with. Like I said...I collect things."

 

"But we have instruments to do that. Tissue mitigators, osteo fusers, regen beams..."

 

Liam sighed. "Oh yes, no argument there, but can any of your instruments heal the entire body at the same time? Because this one can. You know you've lost patients simply because of bloody time. With a badly injured patient, you have to decide which injury, which is almost always a vital organ, and while you're striving to repair that organ, the other damaged organs and peripheral injuries are happily killing the patient."

"I see your point," said a slightly affronted Beverly. "But it's a rare situation when a doctor is the only person available to treat a patient. It's why we work in teams, precisely to avoid what you described."

"Uh huh, but wouldn't you call our situation one of those 'rare' occasions? And this instrument is barely bigger than a PADD. " his eyes still on what Beverly assumed was the screen, he grinned. "And I can guarantee it will be made even more compact." He abruptly sat up from his bent position on the stool and stretched. "Right, Beverly, now you have a particularly nasty job to do. This..." He held up the tablet. "Is doing a very good job, but as a prototype, I'm not going to leave it on until he's fully restored. You can do that when we get back to civilisation. In the here-and-now, you've got to put that," he gestured to Jean-Luc's swollen and badly bruised testicle, "back where it belongs."

Beverly was aghast. "But Liam, he's conscious! I don't know why he's not responding, but all my experience tells me he's no longer insensate."

"Quite right. It's yet another very helpful function of this device. He can hear us and knows what's going on, but unfortunately the med tech boffins haven't worked out how to eliminate the pain the patient feels."

"Oh God! Then why the hell is the patient brought to consciousness? Surely it'd be far more effective if the patient was out to it?"

Liam's expression was hard, yet sympathetic, another dichotomy from the Australian. "Do you really think those med techs would deliberately leave it so the patients felt everything unless they had no other bloody option?"

 

Reddening only slightly, Beverly shook her head. "Of course not! But here we are, using the device on a badly injured patient and he can feel everything that's being done to him. My God, you might as well have given him curare."

Liam's eyebrows rose. "You know about curare? I'm impressed."

"The pharmacology of plants is a...long time study of mine. But you haven't answered my question."

Liam sighed and rubbed his eyes with the pad of each thumb. "You know this is a prototype."

"Yes, you mentioned that."

Liam ignored the sarcasm. "Then you know prototypes aren't perfect, they have bugs that need to be ironed out. Well one of the bugs is the pain thing. The estimation for a bug-free instrument is about 8 months. Hopefully then it'll be pain free, but right now this can't work unless it can accurately measure his pain levels. It's part of the system that addresses the most urgent injuries while still working on others. Now we really need to press on. Get his ball back in its sack as quickly as you can." On seeing the anger and disgust with his choice of words, and before she launched into a time-wasting tirade, Liam said pleadingly and as it turned out, judiciously, "Please."

Mollified, but only just, Beverly, slipped on a pair of old-fashioned surgical gloves, offered by Liam. It was yet another anomaly she'd like to ask him about. Doing her best to try and ignore the thought of the unspeakable agony she must be causing her lover, she gently cleaned the sensitive testicle, another one of Liam's pre-emptive actions. Now slippery the naked testicle required even more tender handling, but that very slipperiness was what assisted it to slide relatively easily into the less swollen and bruised scrotum.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Beverly asked, hoping for the right answer, "Okay. Is that all, or do I have to do anything else?"

"No, except the removal of the anal packing," Replied Liam. "What's left can be treated as we go. This,” He indicated the device, "has done as much as I want it to. All we have to do now is make him comfortable and..."

He was cut off by an urgent call from the team leader. "Sir? I think you'd better come down here. The target has blown a gasket and seems to be arming some kind of weapon."

All business now, Liam said curtly, "Any clue as to what it is?"

"Not yet, sir, but I doubt it's for our continuing good health."

"Hmm, well as it is, I agree with you. You said 'not yet'. Am I to draw from that you may know when?"

The female's tone became guarded. "That depends, sir. The drones are still transmitting, but when she went screw loose, they sort of got caught in the backwash. We're trying to get them up and running again."

"And the chances of that are..?"

"Fifty-fifty, sir. The fact they're still transmitting is a good sign, but the target really did a job on her craft. It's a complete shambles."

"Can you give me a time estimate? Anything would do, as long as I have something to work with." Liam's blue eyes had become cold.

"Well...if we can't input commands the drones will obey within the next half an hour, I'd say they're not going to. The transmitting may be a default mode. Who knows, sir. They might be absolutely fried."

Liam sneered and pressed his thumbs into his eyes again. "That would be unfortunate." He took a calming breath. "All right, do what you can. If you have no luck, in half an hour from now I intend to blast that craft into scrap."

"Aye, sir."

The channel closed and Liam leaned back, running his hands up his face and backwards through his short hair. Beverly's soft voice made him cease all movement. It was as if he'd forgotten she and Jean-Luc were there.

"That's a little...extreme...don't you think?"

He shrugged and studied his little finger, looking for a place on the stump he could begin to nibble. "Not really. Meredith Bower must be stopped. At any cost."

"So we all die?" Beverly said bitterly.

Again Liam shrugged. "Not necessarily. It depends on what she's got. We might be able to limit the damage to her immediate vicinity, but I suppose the flip side is that if she's got a biological, or something that's going to render this planet uninhabitable, then yes, we all die."

"And capturing her isn't an option?"

Liam just stared at Beverly until she held up her hand. "All right, that was stupid. Me of all people knows what she's capable of."

Liam's hard expression softened. "It's not just the need to eliminate her, Beverly. If she were to escape...again...have you any idea what kind of technology's available to her? She's loaded! We in the Federation don't use latinum, but everyone else does. She worked as a whore on a fringe backwater, filled with the hunted, the escapees and the dross of many societies. And Beverly, the numbers are...disgusting. One woman for every one hundred males. If the woman survived as she obviously has, the latinum she earned, and believe me, she earned it the hard way, would be staggering! Those females who survived that planet could name their price while they were there.

"Then she orchestrated the theft of every gram of possibly Ferenginar's wealthiest being. Mind you, what she and her companion did to him was a form of justice...he was a notorious savage and cruel paedophile and had absolutely no remorse when his 'practices' killed the children that he procured. He simply ordered his minions to supply more. And even so, between prostituting herself and robbing the Ferengi blind, she visited one or two people she shouldn't have been able to get within ten light years of. So now we have an exceptionally wealthy individual who can do as she pleases. She no longer understands what excesses are, nor does she care. She thinks of something and within a very short time, whatever it is in in her hands. And to top it all off, she's as mad as a hatter with the hots for you and a hatred for Jean-Luc so vehement...well let's just say I've never seen anything like it...and I've been dealing with odious people for years. Hate I know well, at least I thought I did."

"When you put it all like that, I can see why she needs to be...taken out of the picture. I was being very selfish, Liam. I was only thinking of her in terms of what she'd done to us. I had no idea..."

"Sir? I have good news!"

His body suddenly tense, Liam kept his voice calm. "And what would that be?"

There was pride in her voice as she reported, "We have both drones online."

"Excellent! Well done. Have you any intel?"

"Yes, sir, but we can't make head nor tail of it."

"Send it to me, but keep watching. Under no circumstances are you to permit her to slink off unseen."

"Yes, sir!"

Within mere seconds the intelligence gathered from Meredith's ship was displayed on Liam's monitor. He frowned and tilted his head from side to side. "What the hell is that?"

Moving closer, Beverly said quietly, "Do you mind if I have a look?"

Gesturing to the screen, Liam said tiredly, "Be my guest."

As soon as Beverly saw the bright column of twisting light she gasped, but she took the time to be sure. Liam knew something had just changed...for the worst.

"Beverly?"

She turned to face the enigmatic man and said softly, "It's a thaleron weapon, Liam. If she can get into orbit, she can utterly destroy every living thing on this planet."

"Are you telling me that insane bitch has thaleron radiation to play with? Jesus! Where the fuck would she get that?"

Beverly shrugged. "Like you said. With enough latinum you can have anything you want."

"Oh Christ!" Liam shouted forcibly.” I can't do anything about a thaleron weapon! I could've dealt with anything else, but not that!"

"Why?" Asked Beverly, alarmed. "You said you were willing to sacrifice all of us to stop her. So do it!"

Liam spun around and the look of fierce anger actually made the doctor step backwards.   
"Because, Beverly, no matter what I do, she'll just flick a switch and negate anything I try. And then, with the way clear...she's free to leave. No one can stop her, Beverly! With a thaleron radiation weapon she can destroy entire star systems..." He came to an abrupt halt and paled. "Oh shit! The Sol system! What's the bet she takes out all her demented hatred on the Federation, starting with Earth?"

Beverly looked calmly into his eyes. "You're forgetting something, Liam."

"What?" Liam spat, perplexed. "What have I forgotten?"

Beverly smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Your ace up your sleeve. Three aces to be precise."

At first Liam didn't understand, then the light of realisation dawned in his eyes. "No! I will not let you, Jean-Luc or your unborn child to be martyrs to that bitch!"

"Liam...too much emotion! Come on, do the maths. Three lives against billions? It's a no brainer."

There was very little the tall, lean man could say to that. They stood silently, looking into each other's hearts. When Liam finally did speak, it was a hoarse whisper. "Jean-Luc always chose the best. No matter what it was, always the best. Seems it went as far as picking his partner too."

A quiet, gravelly voice from the bed said, "No question about it, Liam."

Both Beverly and Liam went to Jean-Luc and sat on the bed. Before they could say anything, he held up a trembling hand. "No, don't ask. I feel like shit and yes, I'm in pain, but that doesn't really matter does it. Beverly's right. If there's any hope of pulling this out of the fire, it's us." He looked at the slight swelling of Beverly's stomach then into her eyes. Struggling to keep his voice from breaking he managed, "I'm so sorry, mon coeur."

"Don't be, Jean-Luc. What was it you said to me once? Nothing's written in stone? We might prevail. Who knows? Thing is, we won't know until we try."

"And therein lies your biggest hurdle." Liam said hopelessly. "She'll insist you remain as naked as you are now and unarmed. No doubt a full-body scan will verify that. So just what do you think you can do? She'll have everything she wants! A sex toy in you, Beverly, and the opportunity to take out all her madness and fury with protracted torture, followed by...eventually...death for Jean-Luc. Nothing will be gained. She'd be just as free to go on a rampage with that fucking thaleron weapon!"

"Not if she's dead." Beverly said flatly.

"Oh, right! You're going to kill her. With what, Beverly? Cutting remarks?"

She ignored the sarcasm and said quietly "The drones, Liam. They carry enough sedative to render her unconscious, yes?"

"Yes..." Liam was warming to the idea.

"And what would be the result of her receiving a double dose? Both drones delivering their payload?"

"It would be lethal for a normal human, but her?" He shrugged. "I don't know."

"But surely she'd be rendered unconscious."

"Oh yeah, definitely."

"Well there you have it. While she's unconscious...well, let's just say she'll never wake up."

"Brilliant, Beverly." Jean-Luc croaked. "Do we have a time frame to work to?"

Liam shrugged again. "I can't say for certain, but my guess would be as soon as she has the thaleron weapon balanced and functioning, she'll be out of here lickety-split."

"Then we have no time to waste. Beverly, can you repair my body enough for me to walk?"

The red head gave her lover a look of distress. "I can, Jean-Luc, but there'll be little I can do about the pain and I have to remove the anal packing."

He summoned a wan smile. "Well I'll just have to grin and bear it." Before Beverly could say anything further, the captain turned his attention to his old friend. "Liam, can you contact her?"

"We haven't tried, but I don't see why not."

"Good." Said Jean-Luc emphatically. "If I may...get her attention. If she's her usual crazy self, dangle the carrot. I guarantee she'll calm down and accept."

"Carrot? Jesus, Jean-Luc..."

"I know, Liam, but to get on board that craft that's exactly what we have to be. Now how much control does your team have over the drones? I recall hearing your conversation with the team leader."

Frustrated at not having all the answers his old friend needed, Liam held up his hand. Jean-Luc nodded his understanding.

"Team leader."

"Yes, sir?"

"How much control do you have over the drones?"

"Total, sir and as of about a minute ago, we have crystal clear vision from both of them."

"And the delivery system?"

"That I can't say, sir. We have no way of testing it without..."

"Yes." Liam said, effectively cutting her off. On seeing a signal from the captain, he went to him and listened intently, then nodded. "What’s the effective range?"

"Umm, about two kilometres, I think, sir."

"Find out. I want an accurate breakdown on what those drones can do and what they cannot do. And I will be contacting you soon to send a message to the target."

"A message, sir?"

"Yes! A message!"

"Aye, sir!"

Liam closed the channel to see Beverly using a tissue mitigator to seal the side of Jean-Luc's scrotum. Liam could easily see, although Beverly was being as gentle as possible, it was still excruciating painful.

To break the oppressive silence he said lightly, "So, you found a tissue mitigator."

"Mmm. It was in a med kit at the aft lockers. It's old, maybe a series five H, but it'll do the job."

"No analgesics?

"Nup. All the pharmaceuticals had been removed. Instruments only, I'm afraid."

"Which is better than nothing." Muttered a sweating captain. "How much longer, Doctor?"

By the use of her title, he was giving her a very clear signal they were now on a mission and, injured though he was, he was in charge. Beverly didn't even think of questioning his authority.

"Nearly done, Captain, at least for the outer injuries. I can only hope Liam's magic medical machine did as he promised and went quite a way towards healing your internal damage, because if you begin to bleed after the packing’s removed..."

"Well if it's any help, I do feel somewhat better. If not for the more...private...injury, I would be feeling almost chipper."

As Beverly quietly chuckled, Liam shook his head. "You're a silly bugger, Jean-Luc, but I like you anyway."

Somewhat embarrassed, the captain cleared his throat and said, "Yes...well."

He was saved further discomfit when Beverly said, "Here we go, Captain. Hang on, I’ll be ass quick and as gentle as I can.”

Liam had to move away, the deep groans of pain from his old friend too difficult to bear. Finally the onerous task was completed. Beverly checked thoroughly as was pleased to find little bleeding. Jean-Luc took a few moments to regain his composure.

Sitting up gingerly and slowly pivoting, both Beverly and Liam, courtesy of their long association with the man, could see the immense pain in his face. But he hid it well, not many would've picked it. He held out his arms in a silent gesture for assistance which Beverly and Liam reacted to immediately. They had to steady him on his feet, sweat ran off his body, its sour odour something odd coming from the usually impeccably presented man. But naked, injured and in pain, all he had was his dignity, which he carried undeniably.

He swallowed and took a deep breath which Beverly recognised as his attempt to quell the rising nausea. Once he had established control over his rebellious stomach, he said with remarkable strength, "All right, Liam. Where to?"

Liam looked at his old friend with renewed respect and Beverly's heart swelled. She didn't think it possible, but at that moment she loved him more than ever before.

As they appeared on the beach and stepped into the dying day, Jean-Luc smiled through his pain and lifted his head to see if any stars were showing yet. His helpers, either side of him and holding his elbows, smiled too, both knowing what solace he drew from the stars. His voice was soft when he said "I didn't think I'd ever see them again....or you two."

Beverly placed a chaste kiss on his cheek as Liam contacted the team.

"Yes, sir?"

"Are you ready to send a message to the target?"

"Yes, sir."

"Right. Well be with you in approximately 20 minutes. In the meantime, send this, audio only via standard hailing channel. 'Beverly Crusher and Jean-Luc Picard are willing to come aboard your ship at your convenience.' Send it on all bands within the channel."

"Aye, sir."

Seamlessly, Liam switched his attention to his ship. "Computer, the vessel submerged, presumably within approximately a two hundred kilometre distance from my position, search and target."

There was a wait of less than thirty seconds before the computer responded.

"I have it Liam, however the target is significantly further from your estimation of its presumed distance from your current position."

Liam was impatient, but he knew the computer would continue. So he quashed his urge to order the computer to hurry up.

"The vessel is, at present, two thousand, eight hundred and..."

Liam snapped, despite his knowledge that it would be best to let the remarkable prototype of a Starfleet ships' computer to do its job unimpeded. Like much of the technology Beverly, and to some extent, Jean-Luc had seen, she understood it would all eventually make its way into the fleet as standard equipment. It was a clear sign of Liam's importance that he had the most advanced devices, weapons, etc.

"I don't need to know down to the last centimetre, dammit! Just get on with it! How is it that vessel made it so far in the time that's elapsed?"

"Since monitoring your personal danger quotient as you came closer to the vessel, I initiated a discrete scan. The propulsion system is very advanced and quite unique, it's basic..."

Again Liam was unable to curb his impatience. "I know about the propulsion system and what fuels it! Just tell me how the vessel overcame displacement and resistance under the water. Or did the ship rise and travel above the seas?"

"The vessel remained submerged at all times. Displacement and resistance were overcome by the vessel's ability to change its shape. At present, it has elongated to a new length of one hundred and ninety four metres. The contours of the ship, now resembling a circular propelled projectile, can now, in this new configuration, allow speeds well above what would be expected for a submerged vessel. I do not have an exact readout of the ship's speed as once the vessel moved away from you and your personal danger quotient rapidly fell, I devoted all of my attention to you, however, I can give you an estimate of the average speed used to reach that distance."

By now, Liam's head was lowered and his hands fisted at his sides. But he knew any more impatience would be pointless. The computer would divulge the information in its own time.

"Therefore," the warm voice continued, “the average speed would have to have been approximately 1000 kph, give or take a variant of 47.2 kph to compensate for..."

"Enough!" Liam said curtly. Then in a much softer tone repeated, "Enough."

Liam frowned deeply and swore under his breath and the listening pair of Jean-Luc and Beverly muttered noises of incredulity. Indeed, the captain said softly, "No, that can't be! That just can't be right. Almost two thousand kilometres in two hours, doing an average speed of 1000 kph? Submerged? Mon Dieu!"

With his head still lowered, the tall, lean Aussie sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "But it is, mate, it is right. If my computer says it's so, you can put a sheep station on it."

At Beverly's puzzled expression, Jean-Luc offered a small, amused smile and a quick explanation. "He's saying that anything his computer says, you can bet on it being true and accurate."

"Okay," said a still confused Beverly. "I get that bit...but a 'sheep station'?"

"A very, very large farm that is devoted to animal husbandry, in this case, sheep."

Unbeknown to the couple, Liam had been listening with growing impatience. "If you two are finished with your little chat, we have some difficulties to overcome."

To Jean-Luc's raised eyebrow, Liam said the most important difficulty first.

"Firstly, how to we get her to return?"

Beverly's face was a study in anger. "Why the hell do we want that demented bitch closer?"

Liam's face darkened and Jean-Luc knew he had to defuse the brewing argument, he quickly stepped in. "Beverly, think for just a minute. First of all, Liam is going to want to be close so he has some chance of protecting us and then there's the actual problem of getting aboard. Will she transport? Personally I don't think so."

"Why?" Asked a calmer doctor.

"Because if she could, she would've beamed aboard in the first place. But of course that's pure speculation on my part. It may have been that her vessel was powered down until she boarded, then activated its systems."

Liam nodded. "Still doesn't answer the question, though. Which means we could be standing here talking and you two might disappear. Or, on the other hand, if she can be coaxed into returning and has to surface to take you two aboard, that gives us a window."

Jean-Luc's eyes sharpened. "The drones?"

"Yep." Liam's expression was cold. "We've already been busy using our little friends and so far they've been causing just the right amount of mayhem. We pretty sure she's still unaware of their presence, and if that's so, then the best time to use them as a delivery system of the adapted drugs they carry would be when she was hove to and coming up the companion way."

"Hmm." Jean-Luc agreed. "She's so obsessed with Beverly and so determined to kill me, I doubt she's be aware of anything else."

"Oh, you bet!" Beverly said in a mixture of dread and fear. "My God, that woman is so single-minded...if she can be brought back to this area,” She pointed in the general direction of where Meredith's vessel had risen. "I can guarantee she'll be totally focused on getting us aboard."

Liam's smile remained cold and it certainly didn't reach his eyes. "That's what I thought and that's precisely what we want. The drones are very small and silent. They can deliver their payload and I doubt she'd even feel it, she'd be so focused and even if she did, with the hatch open, a small insect or two biting her will hopefully pass as nothing more than a mild annoyance."

Beverly was tapping her front incisors with her fingernail, a sure sign of both thought and worry. Jean-Luc was on to it immediately. "What is it, Doctor?"

With a rueful smile, Beverly shrugged. "The same thing that's been dogging me ever since Liam told me about the drug." Before either man asked her to elaborate, she continued. "On paper it should work, with such a powerful sedative concentrated into a tiny dose that still has the ability to render any human senseless, I'm just not convinced about the efficacy of using it on Meredith. I can't help but have real misgivings."

Liam was about to argue when Beverly held up one hand. "No, hear me out. We've..." She indicated herself and Jean-Luc, "been in the company of this woman, Liam. Now you know what she's done to herself and you've seen visual evidence in the form of holo images and some vids, but you don't know, Liam. You aren't fully aware of what's she's done. You told me that the double dose of the drug that the drones carry has been specifically tailored to incapacitate an enhanced human, but as a doctor, I have to tell you I couldn't say with any certainty she is fully human...not any more."

Liam's ice-blue eyes narrowed. "So if she's not human, what is she?"

"Ah...the gold pressed latinum question. Truth is, I don't know. From what I've seen there is very little of any normal human, either physical or psychological left in her. As to what she is?" Again Beverly shrugged. "I doubt there's an accurate term for her. I mean..." She turned her attention to her lover, rolling her hand as she said, "That book you told me about ages ago. You know, the one where some mad scientist puts together body parts from cadavers...and there's lightning or something..."

Jean-Luc's face lit up. "Oh! Yes, I remember that. It was called..."

Beverly made a double handed angled stop signal. "Forget the title, what was the thing's name?"

"It had no name, but eventually the creature became known by its creator's name, Doctor Victor Frankenstein."

Snapping her fingers, Beverly then pointed to Jean-Luc. "That's it! That's what Meredith Bower has become. Some kind of Frankenstein, but instead of using parts from others, she has used her own body. But Is she human?" The doctor shook her head. "I don't think so, and that means the drug..." She turned to Liam. "What was it?"

Liam frowned and gave an expression Beverly hadn't seen before. He was embarrassed. 

In a soft voice, Beverly said, "Liam?"

He sighed and rolled his head on his shoulders. "I'm not exactly sure. When we spoke about this earlier, you know when you said you'd...once Bower was unconscious...you know, I assumed whatever drug that's been chosen would be adequate for the job. The only thing I knew for sure was that a double dose in a normal human would be lethal."

A frustrated Beverly began to pace, her feet still tender. She stopped and tilted her head. " Think, Liam. Were any drugs...specifically sedatives...mentioned?"

Scratching his scalp through his short hair, Liam was about to shake his head when his head came up and he made a fist, shaking it. "Yes! Christ! What was it called?"

Jean-Luc said quietly, "Beverly, give him some help. What are the most common sedatives?"

Looking askance, Beverly said dismissively, "That'd be like the needle in the proverbial haystack, Jean-Luc."

"I know how he thinks, Beverly. He'll know immediately he hears it...trust me."

With a snort and arms akimbo, Beverly began to recite. "Okay. We have dylamadon, merfadon, melorazine, seda...."

"Stop! That's it! "

Narrowing her eyes, Beverly said warily, "Melorazine?"

"Yes, I'm positive."

Both men watched Beverly as she thought hard. "Well, under normal circumstances that would be a good choice, although concentrating it to increase potency alters the playing field significantly."

"Significantly enough to make it ineffective?" Asked Liam.

Beverly gave him a long look. "I don't know. If she were a normal human, yes, no doubt. But she's not a normal human...far from it."

Folding his arms across his muscular, hirsute chest, Jean-Luc would've liked to pace, but he was too sore. Each step he took sent spikes of pain up into his damaged testicle. "So where does this leave us? How do we either kill the threat that a free Meredith Bower represents, or the actual person, thereby eliminating the problem altogether."

Liam was first to reply. "Well Beverly was all for offing her; I don't see why that should change."

"It's true that I was keen to 'off'' Bower, but the doctor in me, quite apart from the first rule of the Hippocratic Oath, that being first and foremost, do no harm...as a medical curiosity, Meredith Bower represents a truly unique specimen to study. I know that sounds dreadfully callous, but the woman is insane, well beyond any help, and the medical community could learn so much..."

"But at what cost, Beverly?" Asked the captain solemnly. "I understand what you're saying, what you're describing is another form of exploration, and you know how I feel about that. But Beverly..."

She held up her hand. "It's okay, Jean-Luc, I get it, really. She's just too insane and intelligent. She'd escape from any facility we put her in to be left free to run loose around in space..."

"And let's not forget her almost unlimited wealth, which we’ve run into problems eliminating." Added Liam. "So it's agreed? As soon as we get the opportunity we take her out."

Beverly and Jean-Luc looked at each other, then nodded. The captain spoke for both of them. "First opportunity. Whether it's us, you or your team. And if we're compromised, take her out regardless."

The two old friends shared a look that said far more than any words could. With a slight nod, Liam beckoned the team leader over.

"Open the channel again and let Doctor Crusher speak."

"Aye, sir."

In a few seconds, Beverly had a small, compact device in her hand. She barely registered the quietly spoken, "Channel open, Doctor." 

Swallowing audibly, and feeling the tense stares of those around her, Beverly took a deep breath and turned her head slightly to look into the eyes of her lover. No words were necessary, they each knew what the other felt and thought, but still as Beverly began to turn her attention to the communication device nestled snugly in her hand, she caught Jean-Luc mouthing surreptitiously, "I love you."

She smiled and had to blink rapidly to clear her eyes of the suddenly gathering tears. A few moments later she was ready.

"Meredith ? Meredith it's me, Beverly. I have Picard here, he fell for my ruse, thinking I had feelings for him. He's been injured, but you know that." Beverly forced a sly chuckle, almost gagging with disgust and barely hidden anger. But she had to forge ahead, hoping the computer on Meredith's ship would display her communication as text. As far as Beverly knew, Meredith was still deaf.

When the hand-held device remained stubbornly silent, Beverly changed tacks.

"In order to show you my sincerity, I'll hand him over to you and you can do as you please with him and with no objections from me."

Still no response. She had to up the ante and Beverly knew exactly what to say, yet she dreaded saying it. It had absolutely nothing to do with Meredith's lesbianism. Like her and Jean-Luc's nakedness, there was no stigma, no embarrassment. The only reason for wanting to cover themselves was to either protect their skin from strong sunlight, or to keep warm and that was what they needed now. With the sun almost below the horizon, with its loss, so the heat went with it. Feeling a field cover being placed over her shoulders, she was greeted with a smile as she briefly turned and was surprised to see Liam. He gave an encouraging wink, and she took a deep breath.

"Meredith? I have a wonderful idea. As a token of my absolute and undying love for you, I'll abort the parasite and together we'll make Picard eat it."

All around could tell Meredith was still profoundly deaf as her voice came out of the device far too loudly.

"Do you mean that, Beverly?! Or is this another of your fucking tricks?!"

Taking a steadying breath, Beverly said quietly, now sure Meredith was reading the communications, "It's no trick, Meredith my beautiful, extraordinary love. Come back and take me and the shit, Picard aboard and I'll prove it to you."

There was ten minutes of tense silence before the device boomed again. "I'm on my way!"

The team moved as a well-oiled machine. They melted into the dunes, taking up prime sniper positions. Liam and the team leader went left and right of the couple on the water's edge until they were hidden by convenient lumps of seaweed. There they lay in wait, weapons aimed and primed.

For a few moments, the couple held hands before Jean-Luc said quietly, "Well, I'd best make like a subservient, beaten possession." He grinned rakishly and pecked Beverly on her cheek. She appreciated what he was doing, but his quiet bravery squeezed her heart. But she knew to refuse to go along with the charade would rob Jean-Luc of the courage he needed for what he was to face.

Placing one fisted hand on her hip, Beverly stared imperiously at her lover. "First thing...get on your knees and bow your head!"

As he gingerly lowered himself, Beverly whipped his field cover off. He immediately began to shiver. Beverly so wanted to apologise, but she had to maintain the pretence of superiority and ownership.

Staring out to sea, wishing she could look at her lover, Berkley said quietly, "Do you think we'll have to wait another two hours? Do you think she has any means to see or sense us with any scanners or such like?"

With his head lowered, the shivering man raised his voice only loud enough to be heard over the surf. "I doubt it. From what Liam said those drones of his seemed to have been successful in causing Bower difficulties. As to what kind, I can't say, but judging by the fact she seems to be unable to hear, or use any equipment to communicate with you other than to shout..." He shivered and Beverly heard his teeth chatter, and the soft moan the movement of his damaged jaw brought. Before he could continue, Beverly bent, as if to check the soles of her feet. While down near her lover she said quietly, 

"Tuck up further, my love, but keep your knees a little bit apart. That'll do two things. It'll stop any chance of you squashing your own testes, as your scrotum is very swollen, and the cooler temperatures will be able to circulate around that area and assist in easing the pain."

He nodded surreptitiously and Beverly straightened. In the now fully dark, they spoke softly to each other, their hearing attuning so their voices could be heard just above the sound of the surf. With the dying of the day, the wind had dropped, but Jean-Luc had spotted a line of cloud out to sea before the sun had set and, unless the softer breeze shifted, a front was on its way. How strong it would be, he had no idea.

That was answered only a mere hour later. First came some desultory rain, large warm splats, welcomed by the cold couple, but as the rain became harder, it changed, cold blasts of wind, accompanied by odd, green coloured lightning. The thunder came slowly, seemingly not connected to the discharge of lighting, as it was on Earth. The reason soon became clear. Above the clouds, glimpsed only in snatches, was a bulbous mass of roiling, seething energy. It was from this climactic phenomenon that the lightning stabbed. There was no telling where it would strike, or how many times it struck. 

With the wind beginning to howl, Beverly dropped to a crunched position on her knees beside her lover. He yelled in her ear, "We have to find shelter!"

Beverly nodded, one hand trying to hold her hair back as she assisted Jean-Luc to his wobbly feet. As they turned towards the dunes, crouched in the confused, gusting wind, Beverly looked over her shoulder with fear at the sea, now a raging, treacherous stretch of water. What she saw made her shout an expletive.

"Oh, fuck!"

Knowing his partner rarely resorted to profanity without a good reason or capricious humour, Jean-Luc turned too to see what had caused Beverly to shout. He said exactly the same thing. Then he added, "She's here!"

"The sea!" Shouted Beverly. "It's glowing!"

"Yes!" Shouted Jean-Luc. "But only in one area!"

Sure enough, as the crouching couple watched, the glowing area of agitated sea began to bulge. The glow increased, as did the bulge until Meredith's ship began to appear. It seemed to be changing shape even as is surfaced and the hatch, just forward of the queerly misshapen structure amidships, banged open so loudly, it was easily heard over the storm. 

Like a mottled, naked eel-like creature, Meredith slid upwards without any of her former grace. Jerkily she staggered two or three metres forward and made spastic gestures, though sickening to see, obviously directing the couple out to the ship, which had come closer to shore than before.

Jean-Luc was unable to stand fully upright, but Beverly could. Using the guise of trying to gather her hair, she turned for a second or two, desperately searching for help from either Liam or his team. Nothing happened, so she had no option but to grab Jean-Luc's arm and feign handle him roughly into the sea. He played along, tripping and making it seem he was incapable of offering any resistance to his captor.

With the surf and the sea beyond so rough, the increasingly disabled Meredith managed to fire a line. All it had on the end was a loop big enough to slip over one of Beverly's hands. She got a good grip of Jean-Luc, her arm across his chest and his head on her shoulder before she placed her hand within the loop. Her body began to move rapidly through the water as the line was quickly retrieved by the vessel's equipment. No care was taken to make allowances for Jean-Luc. Beverly's head was above the water...mostly, but Jean-Luc spent most of his journey to the ship under water. Mercifully the trip was relatively short, yet as Meredith bent in jerky movements to help Beverly up the ladder, she gave no notice of the red head's precious companion who was coughing and gagging violently.

Propelled forward without preamble, Beverly was shoved when she hesitated at the hatch. She tumbled, but caught herself. Jean-Luc was not so fortunate. He too was shoved...and kicked and then upended so he went down the hatch head first. Somehow Beverly shoved her shoulder forward, tipping the man's falling body off kilter so he landed more on his shoulder and hip. Nevertheless, it was agonising. 

The hatch banged shut, Meredith's stream of obscenities was unbroken as she punched and kicked at consoles and screens. At one stage she glanced at Beverly, yelling, "Fucking bugs! Funking bit just before I came out! Gotta get out...gotta fucking, fucking...fucking..." She frowned as if she couldn't remember what it was she wanted to do. Beverly saw her chance and spoke quietly.

"So, where are we going, lover?" Asked Beverly, batting her eyelashes coquettishly.

Meredith looked at Beverly and her frown deepened. She tilted her head and Beverly saw that the portal was now as suppurating, foetid mess. The hole was now larger and by the deep scratch marks, it was obvious Meredith had been trying to do something to, or with it. Beverly took a step and Meredith screamed. "Stop, you fucking cunt! You did this!" She pointed to the infected portal. "And you caused this!" The demented woman screeched. She put her hands over her ears and Beverly knew the woman was still profoundly deaf. 

Meredith brushed past Beverly, pushing her savagely aside. "And you!" She screamed at Jean-Luc. "You did all that." She was pointing into the gloom of the barely operating ship. "But I have something for you, fucker! Something very appropriate!" She staggered drunkenly back to the main flat console on which sat an opaque container. "Watch this, you fucking bastard shitcuntdickpus..." She staggered towards Jean-Luc who'd managed to rise to his feet. He was holding his right arm with his left hand and still couldn't stand completely upright, but he did his best to adopt a defensive posture. 

Beverly had manoeuvred around behind Meredith, but froze as some of the liquid she could hear sloshing in the container slopped onto the deck. It was clear and quite thin, much like water, but unlike water, it dissolved the metal of the deck instantly, then kept going, deck after deck, until presumably it ate through the hull just as easily as it ate the metal of the deck. 

The playing field had just changed, dramatically. Beverly caught Jean-Luc's eye to see he'd witnessed the devastating liquid as well. A cackling Meredith also saw he knew. "Yes! Bit by bit I'm going to dissolve you Fuckard! And I'm going to start with your disgusting cock!"

She lurched forward and Beverly dashed to stop her. But Meredith had miscalculated. Instead of stepping up to Jean-Luc, knocking him down and beginning her torture, she slipped, her feet slipping on the sticky, molten metal from the spill. She screamed and her feet went out from under her as her body went backwards. There was a dull crack as the back of her head hit the edge of the main console.

The container had left her hands as she fell, shooting one and a half meters in the air. Screaming, "Jean-Luc! Get back!"' Beverly, unable to get to the man, scuttled backwards, away from the now falling container, staring at it in sickening horror.

Meredith's eyes opened sluggishly, no longer other-worldly blue, but now a milky white. She had enough realisation to whisper..."No..." When the container fell and smashed on her face. Fortunately there wasn't a lot of the acid-like liquid, perhaps 500 mls, but it was easily enough to dissolve Meredith's head and shoulders. 

Making his way gingerly around the sickening and stinking body, Jean-Luc grabbed Beverly's hand and shook it, bringing her out of the shock which had rooted her to the spot. "Come on! We have to get out of the vessel and away! Once that substance gets through the hull, this ship will go down like a stone!"

Nodding vigorously, Beverly helped the captain up the companionway to the hatch. Momentary panic ensued as they found they couldn't open it, but with a sudden whoosh and a inundation of cold sea water, the strong, sinewy arm of Liam appeared. "Come on, you two. This is definitely not the weather for boating!"

With surprisingly gentle hands, Beverly and Jean-Luc were assisted into the water wearing live vests. Moments later they were standing on the shore, field covers wrapped around them, warming them quickly as they watched the ship. A sudden outrush of air heralded the vessel's doom. "There she goes." Liam said quietly. It was then that the couple realised the storm was abating.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I've had enough of Meredith Bower and all her shit. There's a coldie waiting on my ship with my name on it." He turned and looked at the bedraggled pair and sighed, rolling his eyes. "But I 'spose you two want something like tea, Earl Grey, hot."

Very carefully easing one arm across his friend's shoulders, Jean-Luc quietly said, "Just take us home, Liam, old friend."

On Liam's ship, as both received more medical help, Jean-Luc whispered worriedly, "Beverly, the baby?"

Equally quietly she replied, "Fine. You'd be surprised how tough little unborn ones are." 

Closing his eyes in silent thanks, Jean-Luc allowed himself to relax for the first time in a long time. Half an hour later they were sound asleep, spooned in a too-small bunk, but to them it felt like the softest of all clouds.

 

 

The aftermath of what became known as the 'Bower Affair." was far reaching and politically volatile. Several unaligned planets had been involved and some within Federation space. The raid on the backwater world that the hunted took refuge netted some wanted criminals and helped clear the crime list on quite a few planets around the sector.

The downfall and eventual death of Nrug left a vacuum on Ferenginar that was filled by a very canny new Negus. The former Negus had...disappeared in the brouhaha that ensued with Nrug’s downfall. The Federation was still trying to establish some kind of working relationship with the ruling Ferengi as Jean-Luc and Beverly made their way back to Earth.

Liam's office in London was typically hot and Beverly wrinkled her nose when he gently bullied her into having a sip of his icy-cold beer. Jean-Luc laughed until he caught 'that' look from his lover and covered the rest of his mirth with a cough and a long draught of his beer. Wiping his froth moustache off, he said to Liam, "So how much trouble are we in?"

The tall tanned man frowned. "Trouble?" He said as if he'd never heard the word before. "Why would anyone be in trouble? Meredith Bower made all the trouble, mate. Even that last hurrah on the beach. That mad bitch had jury-rigged some kind of weapon blanketing field. That's why we didn't take her out...we couldn't!"

Happier with a sparkling water, Beverly asked, "Has her body been recovered?"

Liam's eyes lost their warmth. "Oh yeah. That freak's been dissected down to the atomic level...and you were right, Beverly. The changes she'd undergone had had altered her at a very fundamental level. And, as luck would have it, your prediction about the drug was spot on. Once it was in her system she began to go...haywire. Mentally and physically. But...we've gained a lot of very useful intel. We now know, for instance, what the 'surgeons' did and how. There'll be no more Merediths, at least not for a very long time"

"And the Fen?" Beverly asked quietly.

Liam sighed and rubbed his eyes, his new little finger with it's mangled nail making Jean-Luc smile to himself. "The Fen. Well, it's a case of good news and bad. We have leads we never had before, which is a big plus...I mean any new info is always welcome, but as for apprehending...whatever or whoever the Fen is..?" He shrugged. "I really don't know. But one thing's for certain. I won't give up."

Giving Beverly a meaningful look, Jean-Luc downed the rest of his beer, drawing a hissing breath through his teeth. "Jesus, Liam! Why do you insist on drinking your beer so dammed cold?"

The scarred, lean man grinned. "You know why, you pampered Frenchman. You've been to where I call home."

Placing his hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezing it, Jean-Luc looked into Liam's eyes. "That I have, old friend. Visit us, don't be a stranger."

A glint of mischief appeared in Liam's eyes. "All right, on one...or maybe two conditions."

To the captain's raised eyebrow, Liam grinned again. "Either to wet the kid's head or to attend your marriage. Whichever comes first."

"Done." Jean-Luc smiled warmly. He helped Beverly up from her saggy but very comfortable chair and looked into her eyes. "Ready to go home?"

Placing her index finger on her chin, Beverly seemed to be giving the question some thought. Then to the waiting men's amusement she said, "Are you asking am I ready to go back to the Enterprise to zoom around through space, never knowing what we might..."

"Only until you reach seven months, as you already know, at which time we will leave the ship on an extended leave to have junior on Earth."

"Oh!" Grinned the doctor. "Well in that case, okay, what are we waiting for?"

They swore they could still hear Liam laughing as they returned home.

End.


End file.
